Curse of the Proud and Prejudiced
by Allahteeah
Summary: Darcy and Elizabeth's love has kept us spellbound for 200 years. But what if their love is older than that? In a fantastical twist on our favorite couple's story, Darcy and Elizabeth are cursed souls, doomed to love each other throughout their many lives yet unable to find their happy ending. Will they be the ones to finally break the curse or will they be kept apart once again?
1. Prologue

Prologue

The storm had come upon them quite suddenly. In his many years asea, the captain had never witnessed such an awful gale preceded naught but with a warning. That morning's sky had promised a day of smooth sailing as the ship continued on to the new world.

The waves had begun to increase shortly after one of his passengers had approached him requesting his services to perform a marriage. As captain, he had seldom performed such an ordinance before the mass immigration to the new world. In these current days, however, it had become quite the common practice. More often than not, upon the month's long journey from England to the Americas, there would be many a couple who would meet and decide to marry. Quite often these were marriages of convenience completed by persons who were afraid of facing the unknown alone. The captain could not say the same of the young couple standing before him now in the torrent.

Rarely did the captain take much notice of his passengers from steerage. He preferred to think of himself as a fair man, but knew that besides the basic courtesy required of him he only gave notice to those who had wealth enough to secure themselves cabins upon his ship. As such a man, he knew that he had taken too much interest over the past three weeks in the couple before him; he also knew that such interest was unavoidable.

The young lady, upon boarding his ship, had been discovered to be a young heiress who had abandoned her wealth and family to escape an unwanted engagement. Although she had only brought enough money to purchase her ticket in steerage and perhaps a few nights at an inn in the States, her manners had betrayed that she did not belong in the servants clothes she wore which the captain rightfully believed to have been stolen. At barely sixteen years of age, he was surprised in the few meetings he had had with her that she spoke as though one with three times her age, a feeling that was compounded by the ageless wisdom that shone from her emerald green eyes.

Her companion, a hardened farmer of at least twice her age, had fled England after discovering that his landlord had been cheating him. With no family, and without a recommendation, he had been unable to find a new tenancy so had packed his few belongings and purchased a ticket to the new world.

The couple had met shortly after pulling out from the docks in London. The young heiress had appeared to recognize the man at once who claimed that he had never met her before; yet she had been persistent. At one point the farmer had approached the captain requesting that he talk to the young lady to insist that she abstain from continuing to pursue him. The captain readily agreed and immediately called the young lady to his quarters. Despite the admonitions given by the captain, the young lady merely raised her head up higher and declared that she would do no such thing, for she was determined that he remember her. Before the captain could object, she had pierced him with her green eyes, which at that point seemed more the color of the dark forest, turned around and left the captain feeling unable to put together a cohesive thought.

A few days later, there had been a storm, mild compared to the one they were currently sailing through, yet dangerous all the same. The farmer had been recruited by some of the higher paying passengers to help secure belongings in the private cabins. He had been all too happy to help until a particular wave had thrown him off balance as he traveled between cabins and he toppled down a flight of stairs. Unsurprising at this point to the captain, the farmer had been found by none other than his persistent admirer as she attempted to find extra blankets for some of the children below.

The ship's doctor had been immediately called for and his diagnosis was not good. The farmer had hit his head and was bleeding heavily; he had also not gained consciousness since falling. While the doctor had been far from optimistic, stating there was nothing to do except wait and pray for the man's soul, the young lady refused to leave his side. Despite everything the captain said or did, she would not be persuaded. For three days she sat by his sickbed administering herbs of names and colors the captain and doctor had never heard of, all the while whispering to the farmer in a foreign tongue. Many of the other men in steerage were uncomfortable with the presence of a young lady, yet when the captain had approached her with their concerns he was unable to speak under the gaze of her sharp eyes; eyes that he swore had been green before but were now a muddy brown.

The evening of the third day, the doctor happily approached the captain with news that the farmer had at last awakened. Quickly leaving his quarters, the captain journeyed down to steerage himself to check up on the patient only to discover him in a passionate embrace with none other than the young heiress. Hesitating only briefly, the captain informed the pair that although he was pleased at the man's recovery, he could not allow behavior of that nature upon his ship between two unmarried persons.

For the next week, the couple spent all their waking moments together, to the exclusion of everyone else. Although they kept their word to the captain that they would indeed keep to proprieties demands, no one could mistake the loving glances sent to each other as well as the whispered conversations in the same foreign tongue she had used during the farmers convalescence.

Having watched the couple for the entire journey thus far, the captain had only been mildly surprised when the farmer had approached him requesting a marriage between the two. The beginnings of the storm immediately after this request, however, caught both the captain and the entire crew by surprise.

Unable to stay in his quarters during the storm, the captain had agreed saying that he would be happy to perform the marriage after the storm had abated. Missing the look of frustration and horror upon the man's face, the captain rushed to don his oilskin coat and join his crew on deck. Once on deck, the captain took a quick survey of his ship and crew, called for all hands on deck to furl the sails and secure the rigging then rushed over to take the helm.

Within half an hour, the storm was at full force; it was quite possibly the worst storm the captain had ever sailed through. It was during this thought that the captain noticed the couple making their way through the wind, waves, and torrential rain to reach him. Before he could order them back down to steerage, the farmer grabbed a hold of the helm and lowered his face so that his dark blue eyes were staring straight into the captains own. The captain barely had time to contemplate the fact that he thought the farmer had grey eyes when he began to speak.

"Forgive us captain, but I'm afraid our wedding cannot wait for this storm."

Confused, the captain looked to the young heiress standing at her lover's side and saw confirmation and determination in her own eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir," the captain replied. "I can't leave me post while me ship, crew and passengers are in danger from this here storm."

"I'm afraid you don't understand, captain. We must get married, and we must get married now."

Shaking his head the captain looked between the two. "Yur both out of yur heads. I must insist ya head down to steerage b'fer either of ya git hurt."

"Captain, this storm will not stop unless you marry the two of us." The farmer continued to stare at him while the young lady leaned in and whispered something unintelligible while looking up towards the sky. Nodding his head, the farmer once again took her hands in his own and addressed the captain again. "Captain, am I correct in thinking that you are a superstitious man?"

Nodding, the captain decided to let his curiosity win over his concern. "O'course I am. I don't know no sailor who ain't."

"Very well," the farmer said in relief. "In that case I implore you to listen. We are cursed, for centuries we have loved each other only for various magical forces to keep us apart. Every time we find each other, something, such as this storm, prevents us from our union. This is the closest we have come to breaking this curse over us. Help us captain; marry us. Unless you decide to kill us, our marriage is the only way to stop this storm and save your ship and all those aboard it."

Skepticism reigned heavily in the captain's mind. As he hesitated though, a bolt of lightning struck the main mast sending one of the crewmen falling towards the deck. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the captain watched as both the farmer and the heiress turned as one and started waving their hands. He watched in stunned disbelief as in one fluid motion a gust of wind whipped a sail from its mast to catch the falling sailor while ropes wrapped themselves around the balustrade and the corners of the sail to allow the sailor to land gently and unharmed on the deck.

Stuttering, the captain turned frightened eyes onto the couple standing before him. "Tha'… tha'… tha's not possible! How'd ya two do that?"

Ignoring the question, the farmer once again asked, "Captain, will you marry us? Right here, right now? Only then will the storm end."

Nodding his consent, the captain called over his first mate to act as witness and began the ceremony while his crew continued to fight the raging storm.

Amidst the most terrifying storm of his life, the captain struggled to remember the words of the sacred ceremony while still trying to keep the helm steady. As the farmer was repeating his vows, a flash of lightening struck right above their heads and before he knew it, the captain was shoved backwards by the young heiress and a man's voice yelled out in utter anguish.

Once the captain had regained his feet, he looked on in bewilderment as the farmer lifted a huge beam off of the heiress' broken body with an inhuman strength. As the farmer gently cradled the heiresses head in his arms the waves began to calm. Now fearing the couple before him, the captain hesitantly edged forwards in the hope of gaining some form of understanding from the whispered conversation, thankfully this time in the King's language.

"Forgive me my love, I was not fast enough," gasped the heiress.

"Nonsense my dear. I am afraid I was the one who was not fast enough. If only I had remembered sooner."

"You say that every time, yet here we are, once again to be separated by a temporary death. Only this time, if the pattern continues to hold, you will remember first, my darling Eavan."

Chuckling ever so slightly through his tears, the farmer lowered his head to brush his lips gently across her brow. "Shush now my Ellette, you know the pattern will hold. It is my turn to face the agony of knowing you while yet being a complete stranger. It has been a hundred years since I last had this chance, but I will find you, just as you have always found me."

The captain stood spellbound as he listened to the conversation between the two lovers. Both had used names that did not belong to them, at least not according to the ships records. He had called her "little elf" while the name he had answered to meant "fair one". On top of that, the farmer's words of their curse echoed in head. Never before had the captain truly believed in superstitions; he had always respected them, but nonetheless found them unworthy of his sincere attention. As he stood watching the couple say their final goodbyes, the captain realized that perhaps he should give the superstitions of his crew more credit as there was obviously more to the simple world he had thought he lived in.

Before he realized it, tears began streaming down the captains face, mixing with the rain, as he watched the farmer kiss his lover goodbye. With one last shuddering breath, the heiress closed her eyes and relaxed into the arms of the farmer. Forcing back a shattering sob, the farmer stood with his lovely burden in his arms and turned to face the captain.

"I thank you, sir, for your willingness to perform the ceremony during such a trying time. Thanks to you, we have never been closer to achieving our goal of breaking this accursed cycle. Alas, we have failed again."

Uncomprehending what was happening, the captain watched as the farmer carried his lover towards the side of the ship, and laid her upon the railing. He continued to watch mesmerized as the farmer began to climb over the railing, balancing on the edge of the ship and once again picking up the heiress. Understanding suddenly dawned on the captain and his first mate who he had forgotten was still present and also witnessing these extraordinary events. As the two men rushed forward to stop the farmer, they were stopped by an unseen barricade.

"I'm sorry, sirs," the farmer stated ruefully. "I am afraid I cannot allow you to stop me. Now that Iliana is once again dead, only my own death can stop this storm and save all those aboard. It is also the only way I can find her again." Pausing, the farmer tilted his head as though listening. Turning once again to the concerned and confused faces of the captain and first mate, the farmer smiled through his tears. "I hear… knocking. It shall be the last sound I hear in this life, and the first I shall hear in the next after I awaken. Only then can I find her again. Thank you, gentlemen, and may the rest of your journey be a safe one."

With a final kiss to the lips of the young heiress, the farmer turned and jumped into the choppy waves. As soon as the farmer jumped, the captain and first mate had been released from behind the invisible barrier. Rushing to the side of the ship, they looked around but found no sign of the lovers. Within a few minutes, the storm had abated, and the sea and sky were as clear and calm as had been expected that morning. Without a word to each other, both the men turned to survey the damage to the ship determined to forget what they had seen.

Although the captain lived for many years afterwards, the look in the farmer's eyes just before he jumped haunted him for the rest of his life. No longer had they been grey or blue. They were black. The darkest black the captain had ever seen, with depths no mere mortal could understand. The blackness of death.

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

The sound reverberated heavily in his ears.

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

Twisting and turning, he struggled to fight against the darkness closing in around him. He wanted to fight it, knew he had to, but he also knew that it was a fight he had already lost. He suddenly wanted to give in, let it take him. The darkness would give him relief.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Realization dawned on him. He had already fought this darkness; he had willingly given himself to the darkness. He had willingly given himself up for her...for her...

 _Knock, knock, knock_.

Gasping for air as a drowning man would, Fitzwilliam Darcy sat upright in bed fighting to understand his surroundings. It did not take long to realize he was in his own bed at Pemberley. Suddenly, memories of lives long gone flooded him, overwhelming him. Struggling to gain control of the memories he tried to focus on what had woke him up in the first place and triggered the return of his memories.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Glancing towards the door, Darcy immediately knew what awaited him on the other side. Reaching over he grabbed his robe and donned it as he rose to answer the door. Standing on the other side was a footman holding a single lit candle wrapped in a black ribbon.

"Master Fitzwilliam, sir," the footman bowed. "I regret to inform you that your father is dead."

* * *

 **AN:** If you waited until you have completely finished reading this prologue to read my AN, you are to be congratulated! You have done better than my mom, who until now is the only person to have read any of my fanfic stories. She kept stopping to ask me if I was sure this was supposed to be a P&P fanfic (several times) among many other questions.

While at this time I have not completed this story, I do have a clear idea of how and where I want this story to go. With that in mind, I do not have a set schedule for uploading new chapters. However, I personally cannot stand to wait for new content so I will try to keep you in as little suspense as possible. I do ask for your patience and understanding though should life happen.

I also personally do not care much for ANs, so at this time I do not plan to add any. I only felt this one was necessary based off of my mom's reaction to first reading my prologue. I will, however, add any AN if the need arises. In the meantime, I promise that although I am adding a heavy fantasy theme, P&P is my favorite story of all time so I will strive to keep true to the characters as best as I can. I hope you have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy this story. Until next time, much love to you all, my fellow P&P lovers!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Fitzwilliam Darcy struggled to keep his hands still as he listened to the ramblings of his closest friends' sister, Caroline Bingley. The simpering woman simply would not stop. Her words were all nothingness, meaningless; yet to her they were of the upmost importance. Wishing he could use his magic to still her tongue, Darcy instead turned his focus towards the passing farms outside the carriage.

Here on the road from London to Hertfordshire, the weather was far milder than what he experienced in Derbyshire and the harvest was still underway. Darcy watched with envy as farmers wielded their scythes and continued to reap their fields. Suddenly the feeling of hard calluses on his hands from years of hard labor as a farmer overwhelmed his senses and he felt a yearning for the relentless sun on his back as he bent over his fields with the peace and solitude such work offered. Sighing regretfully he pulled himself back to the present, reminding himself that such work was not possible for him now.

"Oh Mr. Darcy!" the shrill voice of Miss Bingley punctured his reverie like ice cold steel on a summers day. "I had no idea that you are so affected by the horrors awaiting us in the country! You see, Charles, even Mr. Darcy cannot abide the country. I must insist that you give up this fanciful notion of taking a house so far from town."

Confused, Darcy turned a questioning look upon Miss Bingley who looked quite pleased with herself, only to glance to his friend, Charles Bingley, on the bench next to him, who seemed unable to hide his smirk. Raising an eyebrow, Darcy watched as Bingley broke into laughter much to his sister's chagrin. "I am afraid my dear Caroline, that you have quite mistaken Darcy's sigh. I highly doubt Darcy was agreeing with your sentiments my dear. I am afraid we have caught him woolgathering and that the timing of his sigh with your remarks was nothing more than coincidental."

"Oh nonsense, Charles! I am sure that Mr. Darcy quite agrees with me. Louisa and I are quite positive that we shall not find the society in Hertfordshire to our liking and would much prefer town. A preference I know Mr. Darcy shares with me."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Darcy calmly looked across the carriage towards Miss Bingley who was now batting her eyelashes at him. Disgusted, he quietly let her down. "You are much mistaken Miss Bingley if you believe that I prefer town to the country. If I could, I would never leave Pemberley as I much prefer the open land and fresh air to that society which is found in town." Reveling in Miss Bingley's disappointment and Bingley's continued laughter at her expense, he continued. "Your brother was not far off in his estimation of my unfortunate sigh of which, Miss Bingley, I hope you will forgive me as it was quite rude. I am afraid I slept poorly last night and would much prefer some exercise to stretch my legs rather than being cooped up in a carriage for hours. Indeed though, I am looking forward to seeing what Hertfordshire has to offer us."

Having now successfully silenced Miss Bingley with his remarks, Darcy pulled out a book he had been reading and tried to focus on that. His ploy worked as Miss Bingley continued on in silence while her brother was content to fall asleep. Darcy on the other hand was unable to prevent his focus from being drawn back outside. He hadn't lied to Miss Bingley; he truly did look forward to this trip to Hertfordshire. For five years he had been looking for her without any success. Yet somehow, this time things felt different. For the first time in five years he felt his life was right.

For the first time in five years, he had hope that he might finally find her.

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Later that evening, Darcy retired to his guest bedroom early. They had arrived at Netherfield about an hour after Caroline's disastrous attempt to persuade her brother to give up the country house he had recently leased, followed shortly by the arrival of Bingley's other sister Louisa Hurst and her husband. The rest of the day was nothing more than Caroline and Louisa's derogatory remarks on how unsuitable Netherfield was for their needs, Bingley's overzealous excitement at finally having guests in his first home, and Mr. Hurst's constant demand for sport and drink. It was more than Darcy could handle after such a long drive. However, the day could not have been complete without a visit from a neighbor, calling at a most inappropriate hour, to welcome Bingley's guests to the neighborhood and invite the entire party to an assembly the following day. Ever enthusiastic, Bingley graciously accepted the invitation for all.

Darcy knew that he was being unfair to his host, but he could not stomach the idea of an assembly so soon after arriving in a new place. Always unsure of himself amongst strangers, Darcy was especially hesitant after meeting Sir William Lucas that evening. As kind and generous as the man had been, Darcy was put off even more than usual by the man's forward nature. Frowning to himself, he realized that if all the families in the area were as excitable as Sir William, he would never be able to be comfortable here. Unless he could find her and help her to remember him.

Sighing Darcy realized that he needed fresh air and exercise, yet he also knew it would be impossible to sneak out without alerting Miss Bingley. Unless...

Settled on a plan, Darcy rang for his valet and prepared himself for bed. As soon as he dismissed his valet for the night, he locked his bedroom door and opened the window wide open. Breathing in deeply of the cool autumn air, Darcy closed his eyes and listened. Before long, he could hear everything; the sound of each individual cricket, the wings on the moths, the scurrying of the field mice, the hoot of an owl. Smiling, Darcy focused on the owl. He could picture the long feathered wings, the sharp claws, and the flat knowing face. He could feel the wind in the feathers and a mouse in its claws. With a deep breath, Darcy leapt from his window allowing his body to dissolve into the wind then commandeered the owls form and flew off into the distance.

Freedom. Pleased with his escape from the house, Darcy flew over various fields and groves. He had lived in Hertfordshire once before, many years ago. As he flew, he looked for some sort of recognizable landmark, something that he might remember. Alas, it had been too long, and the years had drastically changed the landscape.

After flying for well over an hour, Darcy felt much more relaxed and returned again to Netherfield. Having once again achieved his bedroom, he released the owl and watched as it flew off into the night as his body reformed itself. Content, he turned from the window to climb into bed, dreaming of the day he could once again fly in his true form.

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.

.

 _"Master Fitzwilliam, sir. I regret to inform you that your father is dead."_

Although he had expected that news upon waking, it was still hard to hear that his beloved father was gone. Yet, his true father was not dead. Shaking his head of the confusion he quietly thanked the footman and told him he would be down shortly.

The day that followed the early morning summons became a blur. Seeing his father laying upon his bed without any life in him had been heartbreaking, while at the same time, Darcy felt as though he was looking at a strangers face. Funeral arrangements, reading of the will, transfer of responsibility, combined with his new memories. It was almost too much for him to bear.

Two days after the funeral, Darcy finally had some time to himself to reflect on how his life had changed. It had been so long since he had remembered first; he had forgotten how hard it was. The memories always came at the worst possible time. This was not the first time he had received them immediately following the death of a parent. It was the first time, however, that he found himself heir to a vast estate. It was almost as if he was finally fulfilling his duty.

Yet here he was, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, not Eavan, Fairy Prince.

Sighing, Darcy looked upon his father's desk, now his, and was overwhelmed with all that was now required of him. The hardest part of the memories was the feeling that now that he had awakened, he had stolen somebody else's life. He always felt as though the life he had been living before they returned was not truly his own. He knew that he was Fitzwilliam Darcy that he had always been the only Fitzwilliam Darcy, yet he couldn't help feeling as though Fitzwilliam Darcy was now dead and he was nothing more than an imposter who had taken his place.

Guilt suddenly overwhelmed him. He had been so selfish. For several lifetimes now, he had been unable to bear watching her die only to remember first without her there to guide him. He always felt safe around her. She and she alone could pull him out of his shell. So unable to bear life without her, he had always willingly sacrificed himself in her stead whenever the curse came to collect. Yet if he felt this miserable now, he could only imagine the pain and suffering he had caused her. Images of her broken body on the ship amidst the storm railed upon his mind. The knowledge that to see her again he would have to kill himself had lead to his self drowning. How many times had he forced that same option upon her; that same pain?

Forcing down the hot tears, he attempted to focus instead on estate business that needed his immediate attention, only to be overwhelmed by memories of his most recently deceased father, Mr. George Darcy.

Unable to focus on anything as everything he thought brought painful recollections, Darcy sat at his desk playing with his hands, attempting to keep his restless magic at bay. How long he sat there, he was unsure, but he was finally awoken from his reverie by a soft knock at the study door. Upon bidding the visitor enter, he was surprised to see a small, timid girl enter.

"William, I...I hope I am not disturbing you."

With horror, Darcy looked upon the distraught face of his younger sister Georgiana. Barely eleven years old, the black of her mourning clothes cast a grey pallor upon her fair facade. Her eyes were red rimmed from days of tears and even her blonde hair seemed to hang limp from its macabre ribbon.

Without saying anything, he opened up his arms to her and she rushed into his embrace. A love like nothing he had ever felt overcame him as the small girl let her tears loose onto his shoulder. In all his lifetimes, he had never had a younger sister. Occasionally he would have an older sibling, and even more rarely a younger brother. Yet more often than not, he was born an only child. Sudden dawning of this young girl's existence and importance in his life caused him to finally let loose his own tears as he pulled her more firmly into his embrace and upon his lap.

After both siblings had exhausted their tears, he allowed her to simply seek the comfort she obviously craved from his embrace.

"Georgiana darling, why would you feel unwelcome here?" He finally asked.

Pulling away from him slightly, she looked down into her lap where she had begun to play with the ribbons on her dress. "I haven't seen you since Father's funeral. I thought perhaps you were avoiding me like I had heard you did after our mother died. I was afraid you might blame me for his death like you blame me for hers."

"Oh Dearest!" he cried pulling her back into his tight embrace. "You must forgive me, Georgiana. I did not mean to neglect you, never that. I am afraid I have been so overwhelmed with my new responsibilities and my own grief that I have abandoned you. I could never blame you for Father's death, nor purposefully avoid your company as it always brings me such great joy."

"But you do blame me for Mother's death, don't you William."

Grabbing her face gently in his hands, he raised her face until her eyes were level with his own. "Georgiana, I was a mere child myself when mother died. I did not understand at the time what had happened. I was told one day that mother was gone, and you were here in her place. I was heartbroken, much as I am sure you feel now that father is gone. You were a painful reminder of what I had lost. You had taken her from me. Then one night, you got sick. I heard the maids whispering that you might not make it, and with father gone on business, they were unsure of what to do." Swallowing the sudden emotion in his throat, Darcy finally gave all of his memories free reign. "When I realized that you might not survive, I panicked. I knew that father suffered more than I did with mother's death, yet he had taken time that I had not to get to know you. He constantly told me that you were mother's greatest gift to us, and he could not bear the thought of ever losing you.

"That night, I snuck out of my room to visit you in the nursery. You were so small, so sick, yet you smiled at me. All of a sudden, I understood what father meant when he told me you were a gift to me from mother and I loved you and knew that her death was not your fault. That night you slept in my arms, and for two days and nights I refused to leave your side. When father returned, the doctor informed him that you had made a miraculous recovery, and gave all the credit to my brotherly care." Pausing to collect himself for a moment, he suddenly realized exactly how she had survived an illness that should have killed her. His fairy self saw the need he would have for her when his memories returned and so he had saved her life with magic.

"William?" Her quiet voice gently broke through his thoughts.

"Forgive me sweetheart, I was caught up in the moment." He smiled down at her as he brushed a stray lock behind her ear. "On that first night in the nursery, I vowed I would always be the elder brother you deserved. I am sorry to have failed you these last few days when it is obvious that you have had great need of me."

"Oh William," she sobbed. "You have not failed. I do not deserve such a loving brother."

Chuckling lightly, he kissed her forehead. "Well my dearest, whether you deserve him or not, he will always be here for you. No matter what!"

For several minutes, the two siblings sat together, content in each other's company. Before long, however, he noticed she was starting to doze in his arms. Quietly so as not to disturb her, he gently lifted her into his arms as he stood and carried her up the stairs to her room where he laid her upon her bed. Once he had removed her slippers, he gently pulled the coverlet over her and kissed her forehead goodnight.

As he turned to leave though, he was stopped by a simple question.

 _"William, before father died you had grey eyes. Why have yours changed color to a most beautiful blue while mine remain a pale grey?"_

 _._

 _._

 _._

Darcy awoke with a start. He always dreamed at night. Most nights his dreams were naught but memories, always of her and his life with her. Never before had he relived a memory of a current life in his dreams, and never so vividly. Clearly there had to be a reason he had dreamt of that memory that night.

Climbing out of bed he walked over to the mirror located in his guest room and stared into his own eyes. Right now they were the color of the sky on a cloudy day. The blue was so pale that they appeared almost grey. Searching his memories, he tried to recall what he had said to Georgiana after her question, but could not. He knew that after his memories returned they had changed to reflect their true color. The blue eyes of the fairy prince.

Sighing, he climbed back into bed after realizing that it was still far too early to prepare for the day, even for an early riser such as himself. Trying to calm his troubled thoughts, he set aside the question Georgiana had asked him that day, and focused instead on the green eyes of the woman he loved hoping that on the morrow he might find her once again.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The following morning found Darcy and Bingley riding out upon Bingley's new estate. While Bingley was thrilled to have his friend as his own guest rather than be a guest himself, the main purpose of Darcy's invitation was to secure his opinion on Netherfield. Having come from trade, Bingley had not been raised as Darcy had to run his own estate. Their first order of business, evaluate the land.

While Bingley had readily accepted Darcy's insistence that the land was their top priority, Darcy himself felt somewhat guilty. The true first focus of evaluating an estate should be the house. However, after a long carriage ride and evening with Bingley's sisters the day before, Darcy was more than anxious to escape to the outdoors. He had seen enough of the house to deem it a worthy building, but felt that the need for fresh air and exercise was more important than a full house inspection.

While Bingley chattered on about his excitement for the evening's assembly, Darcy focused on the land around him. Reaching out with his magic, he was able to touch the consciousness of many living things around him. He felt the worm digging through the dirt, the sparrow that pecked at the seeds upon the ground, the cow grazing in the field. At one point they stopped upon a knoll where a lone tree stood tall next to a large boulder. While Bingley was content to gaze out upon the vista, Darcy turned his attention towards the knoll's guardians.

First he focused on the rock. Reaching out with a single hand, Darcy sent a current of magic through its veins. Since the rock had never been alive, he could do naught but feel the winds, rain and sun from years upon the rocks weathered surface. In just a few brief moments he was able to tell that the land certainly would not suffer from a shortage of rain in the autumn and winter months, but as to the fertility of the land, he would need to ask the tree.

Checking to make sure Bingley's attention was still on the view, Darcy reached towards the tree. Disappointment reigned heavily in his heart as he was unable to decipher anything from the tree other than its health and happiness. Shaking his head he reprimanded himself. He should not have expected anything at all. Trees had always been her strength. Flowers, grass, springs, insects, and small creatures were all within the realm of the fairies. She had taught him many things though to add to his many abilities; he was able to decipher more than most fairies from rivers and trees, even the occasional large animal, but they resided in the realm of the elves. Her realm.

Sighing he turned away from the tree as Bingley called his attention to point out exactly how far the boundary of his new property extended. Determined not to allow his mind to dwell too heavily on his lost love, Darcy began to share his opinions on the wealth of the land with his friend.

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That evening found the Netherfield party arriving late to the assembly in the nearby town of Meryton much to Darcy's displeasure. Having always been a creature of habit, tardiness was never acceptable to him. Caroline Bingley, however, had finally decided to make the best of her stay in the country and was determined to make an unforgettable entrance.

And unforgettable it truly was. Immediately upon their arrival in between the first two sets, the entire assembly room paused as they observed the newcomers. Never having been one to enjoy large gatherings or marked attentions, Darcy shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as all who gathered stared at them and began to whisper.

Thankfully Sir William Lucas quickly approached the party welcoming them to the assembly with what Darcy felt was way too much enthusiasm. Having observed the new tenants of Netherfield and their friends, the room once again focused on the dance floor so that they could complete the set leaving Sir William to begin introductions with those who were not dancing.

Darcy knew that Bingley had already met several of the local gentlemen before he had left for London to retrieve his sisters, yet he felt as though the community knew far too much about the Netherfield party already. Several of the matrons observing the dancing began to watch Bingley and Darcy instead. Whispers behind fans, however, were more than audible to a person with inhuman hearing abilities.

"He sure is a handsome young man."

"His blue coat is very much becoming."

"Is it true what they say? Does he indeed have an income of five thousand a year?"

"It is indeed Mrs. Goulding," the first lady replied. "For I have heard it from Mrs. Phillips whose husband was present when the lease was signed."

"Oh how marvelous Mrs. Long! What of his friend there. Such a tall dark handsome fellow he is. It is obvious that his coat is of much higher quality than that of Mr. Bingley."

"Indeed it is rumored that he is worth twice that of Mr. Bingley. He owns a great estate in Derbyshire, perhaps even as much as half the county!"

"It is a shame both my girls are married. How wonderful it would be to have such handsome wealthy young men as sons-in-law," Mrs. Goulding sighed. "Perhaps though one of your nieces might catch their eyes, Mrs. Long."

"Indeed that would be a wondrous thing. Imagine all the jewels and carriages they would have! Although I must say that it would be nothing compared to attaining the first circles as Mr. Darcy must inhabit! To believe that they would be of higher standing than anyone here. Perhaps then Sir William would no longer feel the need to boast so often of his having been presented at St. James' Court as my nieces would also have had that advantage." Mrs. Long tittered behind her hand while her companion openly giggled the sound grating on Mr. Darcy's nerves. A woman with married daughters giggling among company? How insupportable. Perhaps Miss Bingley was right; perhaps there would be no decent society found here.

"Oh dear!" Mrs. Goulding gasped once again drawing Mr. Darcy's attention their way. "I am afraid your nieces will have no chance at garnering either gentlemen's interest now."

"Whatever can you mean? My nieces are both sweet young women, pleasant to look at and very well mannered," Mrs. Long huffed.

"Indeed they are. However Mrs. Bennet seems to have wasted no time in gathering her daughters around her and Sir William is pointing her way. Look, there she is beckoning Miss Mary to her side. At least Misses Kitty and Lydia are dancing, so perhaps they won't insult our esteemed guests tonight with their unruly behaviors."

"Yes indeed. Well Miss Bennet is a sweet girl. Mrs. Bennet is quite correct in calling her the most beautiful of the girls, also the sweetest. I am quite afraid you are right though, Mrs. Goulding. My nieces will have no chance against Jane." Mrs. Long sighed regretfully as she and her companion turned to once again watch the dancers.

Darcy turned and began to watch the family in question. There was indeed an older lady surrounded by three young women. The oldest looked to be around two and twenty and was indeed most beautiful. She had her mother's light hair and blue eyes. Her tall willowy countenance and demure smile as she listened to her mother were those looks and manners of the most fashionable of the ton.

The youngest of the three had darker hair pulled back into a harsh bun giving her a most severe appearance. The look of boredom in her eyes attested to the fact that due to her plain looks next to her eldest sister she must rarely have been asked to dance.

The third sister had her face turned away from Darcy and his group. Her dark hair gleamed in the candlelight and was set in a most becoming style. Although the shortest of the sisters, her figure was the most pleasing to his eyes. The soft lilting melody of her voice drifted over to the crowd to his ears. The sound was indeed very pleasing, full of laughter, although she seemed to have upset her mother who looked exasperated. Not having heard what she had said, Darcy surmised it must have something to do with his party as the four women turned to look their way. Still unable to see her face, Darcy felt his heart race. Only she had ever attracted him in all his lifetimes, and here was a young woman whom he could not look away from. Wishing she would turn his way, Darcy was pleased to hear Bingley request an introduction with the family from Sir William.

He followed Bingley and Sir William at a distance unsure if he was ready for an introduction. As his friend approached, the young woman turned towards them and Darcy felt his heart sinking. She was indeed a beautiful young woman although not a classic beauty like her elder sister. Her laughter shone in her soft hazel eyes, yet there was no depth to them. As a man he was drawn to her beauty like a moth to the flame, yet as a cursed soul he chastised himself for being attracted to anyone other than his love.

Surreptitiously, he turned and walked to a point a short distance away attempting to appear as though that had been his destination all along. He watched as Bingley was introduced to Mrs. Bennet and the eldest three of her five daughters and requested the hand of the eldest, Miss Jane Bennet, for the next two dances. Embarrassed for his friend, Darcy was appalled at the manner in which Mrs. Bennet was gushing praises for both Bingley and her eldest. Yet he could not help but notice the amusement in the eyes of her next eldest, Miss Elizabeth. With a rueful smile, he swallowed his disappointment at not finding her in the assembly hall and walked away.

Although he had by courtesy danced with his hostess and her sister, Darcy spent a good portion of the evening trying to avoid any company. The hope he had felt upon arriving in Hertfordshire had disappeared the moment he saw Miss Elizabeth's face. He had been so sure it was she he had been looking for, yet there was no recognition.

Dejected, he wished nothing more than to return to Netherfield and deal with his bitter disappointment in solitude. Instead, he watched his friend dance with Miss Bennet. He had seen Bingley fall in and out of love many times over the years, always with a pretty face, and it was obvious to him that Bingley was much enchanted with his new neighbor. He was therefore quite surprised when Bingley left his companion's side to converse with him instead.

"Come, Darcy," said Bingley, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not," he replied. Not wishing to inflict his foul mood on any one he continued. "You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honor I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, looking at the eldest Miss Bennet and feeling the weight of his lie.

"Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round, he beheld Miss Elizabeth, catching her eye. Holding his breath, he suspended time around him searching her eyes for any sign of recognition inside. Berating himself, he knew that if she had indeed been Iliana, he would have known her right away; yet he could not seem to give up hope. There was something about Miss Elizabeth that drew him to her. Seeing nothing, he once again swallowed his disappointment and let time return to its normal flow. Knowing that he could not allow her to have any idea of his attraction, he withdrew his own gaze and turned back to his friend. He coldly said, "She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me."

Regret washed over him at the untruth he spoke. Nevertheless, she was not the one he longed for, so knew that by insulting her, she would be unwilling to allow a like regard form for him. In that way he knew he would be safe from his attraction to her.

As he started to turn towards another corner of the room, one away from her, Darcy was surprised to see her walking towards him. Steeling himself for a confrontation he knew he deserved, he was struck by the mischievous smile upon her face and the flash of dark green in her eyes as she passed by him to join Miss Lucas. Confused he watched her relate his words to her friend with much laughter at his expense. He had been so sure she was not who he wanted her to be; indeed he had not recognized her as he should have. Yet there was no mistaking the green flash in her eyes. The exact same look she had bestowed upon him all those years ago when they first met.

Miss Elizabeth was indeed his lost love Iliana, and he had just insulted her. What had he done!

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While Darcy spent the rest of the evening in complete misery, Elizabeth put off her own hurt and confusion by refusing to give off the appearance that the proud mans slight had affected her. Laughing over the incident with Charlotte had helped calm her outward demeanor yet on the inside she was in turmoil.

From the moment the Netherfield party had entered the assembly room, Elizabeth had felt different. Strangely she was unable to describe exactly how she felt or why, but was sure it had something to do with Mr. Bingley's friend. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, yet it was his blue eyes that held her spellbound. They were the exact color of the calm ocean on a clear day. Having never seen the ocean, however, she was unsure of how she had come upon such a likeness while knowing the comparison to be true.

She had watched the man try to hide from attention in a room full of strangers by keeping to the edges of the room. While Mr. Bingley was the most amiable man she had ever met, it was obvious to her that Mr. Darcy was quite shy and uncomfortable. She had been disappointed that he had not sought an introduction to her and her family with his friend. While she was happy to watch her dearest sister dance with Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth could not help but let her gaze wander often towards his friend.

Wanting to know more about the man everyone in the room was describing as most disagreeable, she was unashamed to admit that she had purposefully placed herself near him when Mr. Bingley approached him hoping to overhear their discussion. When Mr. Bingley mentioned having Jane introduce her to him, her stomach flipped. But then he turned and met her eyes with his own.

The moment their gazes met, her breath hitched and she felt the world around her stop. She was sure that if she could only look away, the rest of the room would be frozen in time, but she could not. His blue eyes held her own prisoner and she felt him searching their depths. For what he was looking for, she was unsure, yet she prayed he would find it. When he finally withdrew his gaze, she felt cold and empty inside; a feeling that was compounded upon hearing him declare her "not handsome enough."

Always being one who enjoyed laughing at the follies of others, she was shocked to discover tears filling her eyes. This man was unknown to her and obviously had no interest in her, so why was she so upset at his comment. Determined not to let him ruin her evening, she walked by him pleased to see him follow her movements as she went to share the incident with the only other person besides Jane who could help her forget her own unknown misery.

That evening after she retired, she finally let her tears fall unsure why they fell at all. When sleep finally overcame her in the early hours just before dawn, she dreamt of a pair of blue eyes gazing upon her with love.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _He had been sitting there hidden on the outskirts of the grove watching them perform their ritual for days._ Entranced by their movements, he failed to see why his father believed them to be so dangerous. It was true that they had magic, yet it was weak, and unless they wanted to heal or kill someone, it was also quite useless. The druids were no threat to their way of life.

Still he was intrigued. Here were mortals who worshiped more gods and deities than he could keep track of. They were unafraid of death and as a result performed useless human sacrifices which he had been unable to watch. They also had an uncanny knowledge of herbs and plants along with their uses. It was from this knowledge and use that their supposed magic came from. What he found truly entertaining, however, was the fear sorcerer's had of them despite the fact that unlike the druids, they had true magic.

Chuckling to himself, he thought about the recent war between the sorcerer's and the druids. For a short time the two groups had lived in peace among themselves; all except Merlin, that is. However, the old man had disappeared not long after the death of King Arthur and without a common enemy, war between the druids and sorcerers began again. It was a sad day among the fairies when the last of the sorcerers had died; the day they removed themselves from among the mortals.

Despite his father's insistence that they could no longer interact with non fairies, Eavan could not stay away; he believed peace for all was possible, an ideal he had learned from Merlin himself. Merlin had taught Arthur to respect all persons, that everyone should be treated equally, and that magic need not be used to gain power. It was this last ideal that had angered the druids and sorcerers for they believed themselves to be privileged. This same ideal had inspired Eavan to study other beings. For he believed that only by understanding them could they live in peace.

He had been sent out to prepare the land for the coming winter when he had come upon the druids. They were celebrating the end of the harvest season, and the celebration and rituals had been continuing on for three days. He knew he was shirking his duties, yet he could not tear himself away. He wished to know all about them in the hopes that in the two decades since the war, their hearts had softened towards those who had true powers. Though despite his curiosity, fear of being outnumbered should he be wrong and discovered to be a fairy had kept him in the shadows, content to simply observe. Soon he would have to leave to complete his task, but for now he had no wish to do so.

The rustle of the wind from behind him caused him to perk up listening to his surroundings. It held the scent of an animal and the deep forest. It also held another scent he could not quite make out, that of another magical being. Carefully, so as not to attract attention to his presence, he unsheathed his sword and sunk deeper into the shadows. Still listening, he could detect no movement. _Cautiously he lowered his sword and began to turn to once again watch the druids when he came face to face with a pair of emerald green eyes aiming an arrow straight at his heart._

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Darcy paced agitatedly in his room at Netherfield, a half empty glass of brandy in his hand. Unable to sleep, he had spent the night uncertain as to what he should do. He had insulted Miss Elizabeth in a most cruel manner and in turn, she had made known to all in attendance of his proud and disagreeable manners. His company in Hertfordshire would be unwelcome, yet tolerated for the sake of his agreeable friend.

Cursing himself for his remarks, he had allowed himself to wallow in his guilt as he downed his glass and reached for the decanter to refill it. How was it possible he had not recognized her right away as he should have? If he had, he would have been blessed with her hand for a set or two, and her smile and laughter shared with him and not with others at his expense. He had not insulted her so since their very first meeting.

As guilt is wont to do, he soon began to doubt. Perhaps his original assumption was correct and Miss Elizabeth was not Iliana. It is possible that he had not truly seen that flash of green in her eyes as she passed by him. He began to wonder if it had been merely a figment of his imagination. After all, he could not deny that he had found her most attractive; perhaps he only saw what he wanted to see. If indeed such was the case, there would be no need to repair the damage he had caused. Between the lady herself and her family, he believed the task would be difficult indeed; a task he was unsure if he could truly accomplish.

For hours he had gone back and forth between his guilt and doubt unable to reach a settled conclusion. His mind wished to believe that he had good reason to doubt while his heart rebelled at the thought. Eventually he decided that the best course of action was to simply observe her every chance he had and hope for another sign to prove whether or not she was Iliana. As the sun began to peek over the distant hills, Darcy finally set his brandy aside and gave in to his exhaustion hoping for a few hours of undisturbed slumber, recalling the first time they had met.

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 _Unable to take his eyes from the green orbs staring at him, Eavan attempted to raise his sword again only to be halted by the arrow being drawn further back upon its bow_. Sighing with resignation, he made a show of slowly sheathing his weapon. Once it was put away and his hands out in front of him again the arms holding the bow and arrow relaxed; but only slightly.

Frustrated with himself for having been too distracted to pay attention to his surroundings, he was slightly relieved to know that the person standing in front of him was not a mortal. Only a magical being could traverse the undergrowth of the grove in complete silence. Yet, he was still embarrassed to have been caught at all.

With a small nudge of the arrow, his captor motioned for him to slowly turn and walk away from the druids in the grove deeper into the forest. As he walked, he felt the arrow trained upon his back and knew that to attempt any escape, magical or otherwise, would cause his captor to let loose the arrow. A fear he had never before felt crept over him. Although considered immortal, any creature, fairies included, could be killed if dealt a fatal physical injury. He did not doubt the aim of his captor.

Once they had traveled a good distance into the forest, his captor signaled for him to stop and seat himself down upon a fallen log. As he did so, he got his first good look at his captor. His embarrassment at being caught increased as he realized his captor was nothing more than a young elf. Face hidden behind a helmet, he was unable to perceive any physical details besides the young man's light build and short stature. It was true that elves were the greatest hunters in all the realms, but even he should not have allowed himself to be caught by a youngling.

Determined not to be the first to speak, Eavan sat up straighter allowing the young elf his own perusal. He would not be intimidated. After several uncomfortable minutes of silence, the elf slowly lowered his arms yet did not release his hold on the arrow, poised and ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

"Who are you fairy and what business do you have in our forest?"

Eavan was surprised by the light and airy tone of the elf's voice; an elf much younger than he had thought, although the voice also held much strength and confidence. Quickly trying to don an air of boredom, he merely raised an eyebrow and asked for the elf's name in return for his own.

With a chuckle the elf raised the arrow and said, "I believe I am the one asking the questions and I demand an answer."

"Very well then, if you must know I am Eavan, son of Adair, King of the fairies." He finished with a flourishing half bow from his seated position on the log.

"Well, well, well," the young elf chuckled. "Today seems to be my lucky day, for my catch will reap quite the handsome reward."

Anger caused the corner of his mouth to rise into a snarl. He had hoped by revealing his identity that his captor would realize his mistake and let him go. Instead the elf seemed to be laughing at him with no intention of releasing him. Drawing himself even higher on the log in an attempt to intimidate the elf led only to outright laughter.

"My, aren't we quite the self-important being."

Eavan bristled at the impudence of the elf. "Important yes, after all I am my father's sole heir. As to self-import, I know not what you mean. Now I insist that you release me and in return I will promise you that word of your indiscretion will not be heard of from me."

"Hah! You trespass on our land and make demands of me?" The elf soon was unable to control his laughter which served only to increase Eavan's anger. "Yes, indeed you are quite full of yourself milord." Finishing with a mock half bow, the elf once again raised the arrow to point at his chest.

"If anyone is full of themselves it would be you, son," Eavan replied ignoring the amused expression in the elf's eyes. "For it is obvious to me that you do not understand who exactly it is you hold prisoner. It is understandable though since you are so young in age. I would not expect a mere youngling such as yourself to understand the folly of what it is you have done."

"A youngling you say. Ignorant, too. Is this what you have to blame me of?" Eavan watched as a flash of ire sparkled in the elf's eyes. Yet despite the anger there, he could not shake himself of the feeling that the elf was still laughing at him. "Indeed I must be the most ignorant of elves as I have captured the pride of the fairy realm. Quite the impossible feat as it is said that his powers know no limits, his strength unbeatable, and his kindness unparalleled. He was born, after all, with the suns rising on the summer solstice. On that day it is said that the skies sung his praises, claiming him as their own for he would be the one to lead the fairies through all eternity. Oh and did I neglect that there is no rival for his abundant good looks. Oh how all the ladies must swoon in your presence."

"At least I can boast of tempting the ladies," Eavan replied with a sneer letting his anger get the best of him. "A pleasure I can assure you will never have with such cheek as you possess."

"Ah, but I have no desire nor need to tempt the ladies milord. If you wish to insult me, you must do better than that."

"A young man who does not wish for a lady's pleasures? Indeed you are the most ignorant and perhaps dim-witted elf imaginable."

"No, milord, it is you who is lacking of intelligence here." All trace of amusement was gone from the elf's voice. "I am all amazement that you took my suggestion to find a better insult to heart. I after all am the one who has captured you and keep an arrow trained at your heart. Is it so unbearable to you that you have been caught by me that you feel the honest need to insult what you do not know?"

"I know that I can and will overpower you. Did you not consider the possibility that I have only been humoring you? After all, you have boasted of the great pride you will receive at having caught me and as magnanimous as I am, how can I deny you of your boast. How is it by the way that a youngling has been allowed to hunt all by himself? I had thought the elves possessed better sense than to let a child out close to the mortals alone."

Fury shone from the elf's eyes. "You are the one who knows not of what he speaks. You are here, in our woods, where we alone can control the trees. You fairies believe yourselves to be all powerful, yet all you do is play with your flowers, flitting from here to there. Besides, how is it that such an important man has such dainty wings? They look far too thin and flimsy to carry your great weight. How embarrassing! And the reason they must boast so of their heir is because he must seem a giant to them all. I thought all fairies to be no larger than a bug."

Ignoring the arrow still aimed at his chest, Eavan stood up and stepped closer to the elf seething in his anger. "I would thank you, son, not to confuse my great race with that of the sprites, spiteful creatures that they are. I must only say that such an accusation from you must derive from your jealousy. I can change my height and size, be as large or small as I wish to be. You, however, are stuck with whatever nature sees fit to hand you. I believed all elves to be tall, proud and graceful beings. You must be ashamed at your small stature. All your fellow younglings must tower over you. Indeed this must be the reason you are so sure of yourself while committing the greatest error of your life. You seek only to impress."

Surprised, he watched as the elf smiled and finally put away his weapons. With a swift movement, the elf reached up to remove his helmet as Eavan fell back upon the log in shock.

Standing before him was not a youngling as he had thought. Instead he watched as a young woman raised her sharp profile to once again stare into his own eyes, her long auburn hair cascading down her back in waves. With a smirk she said, "Perhaps now we might finally agree that I am not the one here who is in error."

If he had thought that the being caught by a youngling was bad enough, it was nothing to the embarrassment he now felt at realizing he had instead been caught by a woman. She appeared to be around the same physical age as him, and he found her beauty quite striking. She also seemed to hold herself in such a manner that spoke of nobility if not royalty. These thoughts, however, merely added to his anger and frustration and seeking to blame her for his predicament instead of himself he said, "Indeed we may. For who could expect a woman to know of what she speaks."

Before he was aware of what was happening, Eavan found himself hanging upside down by branches tightly coiled around his body and leaves gagging his mouth. Unable to move anything other than his head, he watched as the elf began circling around him.

"For an all powerful fairy, I believe you still have much to learn. Even a prince has need of proper manners, something of which you sorely lack. I feel sorry for the ladies of which you earlier bragged about. I would hate to see your pathetic attempts at flattery if today is any indication as to how you feel about the fairer sex. Now, I will give you some time to yourself to think about how you can improve your demeanor. After that, you will be freed and allowed to leave this forest. I will be watching to make sure that you do leave, and if I ever see you in our forest again, I will not hesitate to shoot you."

As she turned to leave, the leaves gagging him fell away and he called after her his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Am I not allowed to at least have the pleasure of knowing to whom I may credit this afternoon's event?"

Pausing, she turned around and quirked her head considering his request. Chuckling quietly she said, "No. I do not believe you are worthy of such information milord. If today is any indication of how you feel about me, then I would not grant you any power over me by giving you my name. Good day milord."

 _Amazed he watched as she sauntered away. "Insufferable little elf," he mumbled much to the amusement of the elf, her laughter lingering as she disappeared amongst the trees._


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The fortnight following the assembly found the party at Netherfield engaged in many different pursuits. Darcy and Bingley spent all their time going over the estate. For hours they rode over fields, pored over the books, and inspected the house. While the gentlemen were at work on the estate, the ladies of the house had to endure calls to and from their neighbors. Both gentlemen had been quite disappointed that they had had to leave shortly after the Bennet ladies had called, though both for very different reasons.

They had also found themselves attending several dinner parties, four of which the Bennet's had also attended. During these dinners Darcy was quite frustrated as Miss Bingley was his only companion. His proud demeanor and sour disposition had by this time rendered him as an unsocial taciturn man with whom no one wished to converse. Every evening found his name card placed next to Miss Bingley's and as far away from the Bennet's as possible. Although this infuriated the man, the same could not be said of his companion who was always relieved and thankful that she would not have to endure a tedious country dinner among unpleasant people alone. Night after night Darcy sat quietly listening to Miss Bingley's tirades against the community all while trying to catch a glimpse of Miss Elizabeth's eyes and conversation.

On the fourth dinner they attended with the Bennet's, Darcy had finally had enough. Determined to have an opportunity to speak with Miss Elizabeth, who had managed quite successfully to avoid him thus far, and remove himself from Miss Bingley's company, he quietly took note of where her name card on the table was. As the party adjourned into the dining room, he waited until both ladies had seated themselves before switching the names on the cards of their neighbors, placing his name next to Miss Elizabeth's and sending Mr. Long to sit next to Miss Bingley. The confusion and disappointment for all would have been quite comical to Darcy, had Elizabeth not paled upon seeing his name on the place next to hers. Guilt at using his magic to manipulate the evening's events nagged at him, but only for a few minutes until relief gave way.

Delighted to finally have the opportunity to converse with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was oblivious to the seething rage emanating from her. She had known that Mr. Long had been designated as her dinner companion for the evening and had the strangest of feelings that Mr. Darcy had been at fault for the mix-up. Somehow, the gentleman had managed to exchange the name cards without anybody noticing. She struggled to come up with an explanation for the strange occurrence yet failed.

Determined to ignore the man seated to her left as much as possible, she gave the shortest responses to his queries civility allowed and turned her attention to her companion on her right. Before long, Darcy gave up trying to engage her in conversation and once more became the quiet brooding man he had been before. This change in civility though simply angered Elizabeth more. How was it that the man who had insulted her could evoke feelings in her she could not comprehend? Even worse, how could he be so kind towards her one moment while ignoring everyone else around him and the next pretend she did not exist?

Distraught at her abruptness, Darcy finished his dinner solemnly, barely managing to attend to the conversation around him. He had never been so relieved to separate from the ladies after the final course had been served as he was that evening. When the time came for the gentlemen to finally rejoin the ladies, he took up a solitary post in the corner of the room and followed Miss Elizabeth's every movement with his eyes praying that he had been wrong about who she was.

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Several days after the disastrous dinner, Darcy found himself attending yet another gathering at Lucas Lodge. This affair was the largest the Netherfield party had attended since the assembly as Sir William seemed to be throwing the party as a welcome to a recently arrived militia regiment. As a result, Darcy was more easily able to escape notice from those gathered. Chuckling to himself, he was for once grateful for his reserved nature as no one thought his avoidance of others out of the ordinary.

Regardless of his desire to avoid Miss Elizabeth, he felt himself being drawn to her. He was as yet unsure if she truly was Iliana and half hoped she wasn't. He felt awful for having insulted her at the assembly, and had since tried to converse with her in the hopes that he might be able to atone for his slight. After she had brushed him off at the last dinner they attended, he began to doubt he would ever be able to apologize.

Without realizing it, he had wandered closer to where she stood conversing with Miss Lucas and was surprised to discover her addressing him.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

Pleased that she was willing to speak with him, let alone tease him, he decided to reply in like manner. "With great energy; but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."

"You are severe on us," she replied with an eyebrow raised in question.

"It will be her turn soon to be teased," said Miss Lucas. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend! Always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers."

Miss Lucas was persistent however and eventually Miss Elizabeth gave in. Glancing at Mr. Darcy with a grave look she said, "There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with - 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge' - and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

Darcy watched as she made her way with her friend over to the pianoforte. Although her performance was by no means capital, he found it infinitely more pleasing than most he had heard in the finest drawing rooms in London. Having listened politely to her first song, Darcy began to turn away from the crowd surrounding the instrument for his corner when she began her second song. Upon recognizing the tune, he turned tear filled eyes once again in her direction and stood mesmerized as she began to sing once more.

 _My lodging it is on the cold ground_  
 _And oh! Very hard is my fare,_  
 _But that which troubles me most is_  
 _The unkindness of my dear._  
 _Yet still I cry, 'Oh turn, love,'_  
 _And Prithee, love turn to me,_  
 _For thou art the man that I long for,_  
 _And alack! What remedy?_

 _'I'll crown thee with a garland of straw then,_  
 _And I'll marry thee with a rush ring;_  
 _My frozen hopes shall thaw, then,_  
 _And merrily will we sing:_  
 _O turn to me, my dear love,_  
 _And prithee love, turn to me;_  
 _For thou art the man that alone canst_  
 _Procure my liberty.'_

 _But if thou wilt harden thy heart still_  
 _And be deaf to my pitiful moan,_  
 _Then I must endure the smart still_  
 _And tumble in straw alone:_  
 _Yet still I cry, 'O turn love,_  
 _And prithee, love, turn to me!_  
 _For thou art the man that alone art_  
 _The cause of my misery.'*_

At one point during the song, Miss Elizabeth looked up from the instrument and her eyes met his. Without faltering she continued to play, not once looking away while he watched spellbound as green flecks danced in her eyes. The moment she ended her song, the green flecks disappeared and her eyes returned to their dull hazel color. Despite the many entreaties to continue playing, she willingly let her sister Mary succeed her at the instrument.

Darcy watched her walk away to rejoin her friend Miss Lucas. Struggling to keep his emotions in check, he continued to watch her as he no longer doubted who she was; for only she could sing their song with such emotion. Blinking back his tears he remembered the first time he had heard her sing it.

He had been studying under Captain Henry Cooke when he had met the niece of Matthew Locke, with whom his master was working with on a composition for an opera by Sir William Davenant. A young girl of merely nine years of age with long flaxen hair, she had taken an immediate liking to the young composing student. Willing to put up with her for the sake of his master, he tolerated her attentions with the impatience of an elder brother. Despite his many attempts to avoid her, she always seemed to find him.

Over the next several years, her attentions became more insistent every time they found themselves in each other's company. Refusing to see her as the young woman she had become, he was taken back one day when he came upon her singing with her uncle while delivering some notes. She had told her uncle a story about a woman in love with a man who did not know who she truly was. Matthew Locke had loved the story so much that he used it as inspiration for a song. Since it was her story that had inspired him, her uncle insisted that she be the first to sing it.

From the moment he entered the Locke residence, he had been drawn to her voice. As soon as he entered the room and saw her, he had forgotten everything except her green eyes which were boring into his own. As she finished the song, the song he by then knew was about them, his memories returned and he began chastising himself for having ignored her all those years; an oversight she quickly forgave. Within a month, however, she contracted the plague, yet again, and he lost her a week later. Their song, however, had never failed to bring him to tears. It was nothing more than her hearts greatest plea throughout their many cursed lives.

So deep in his memories of that past life, Darcy failed to notice Sir William had approached him.

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

Surprised at having been addressed, it took Darcy several moments to realize what it was Sir William had been talking about. Apparently while he had been distracted, Miss Mary had been persuaded to play several Scottish and Irish airs so that her younger sisters could dance with the younger Lucas's and two or three offices. Turning to Sir William he said, "Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance." Smiling to himself, he thought of the druids and the complex motions of their ritual dances.

"Your friend performs delightfully," Sir William replied watching Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet as they joined the group. "I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy."

Confused and upset that Sir William had mistaken his comment as a criticism towards the activity he coldly replied, "You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir."

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

Now angry that Sir William was trying to purposefully prove his misunderstood statement wrong he simply said, "Never, sir."

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

Struggling to contain his anger he sneered. "It is a compliment which I never pay to any place, if I can avoid it."

As Sir William continued to ramble on, Darcy merely stood there trying to keep his anger in check. He was greatly relieved when Sir William found a more agreeable subject, even if the man was still trying to discredit him.

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing? Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

Thrilled to have the excuse to dance with Miss Elizabeth, Darcy began to smile until he saw her quickly pull her hand out of Sir William's and look around nervously.

"Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

Struggling to keep a calm facade, Darcy said, "It would be a great honor if you would allow me this dance, Miss Bennet."

"I thank you, sir, but I must decline." Much to Darcy's consternation, she continued to look around nervously, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour." Even though he was much relieved that Sir William had replied instead of himself, his anger once again rose at the thought that the man thought so of him. He had always loved to dance; he was just reserved among company and preferred to only dance with her. Lost in his thoughts, he failed to attend to the rest of the conversation and was quite surprised to suddenly find himself alone as both Miss Elizabeth and Sir William had left to converse with others.

He was not left alone for long, however. Miss Bingley was quick to sidle up to him and began to place conjectures on what he thought of the evening. Wishing to silence her so that her insults would not be overheard, he simply told her that she was quite wrong and that his thoughts were more agreeably engaged on the great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman could bestow.

Wishing to hear that it was her eyes which brought him such pleasure, she was quite upset to discover that it was instead the eyes of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. With a small smirk, Darcy spent the next several minutes watching his lost love laugh among her friends and neighbors all while ignoring Miss Bingley's tirade on the inappropriateness of Miss Elizabeth's demeanor and connections.

When he finally retired for the night, he dreamt of the day they first danced together.

.

.

.

Elizabeth did not know why she had chosen to sing that song, or why it had such an impact on her that night. She had been a young girl when she had first heard it and immediately fell in love with the sad lyrics. They felt familiar, and despite the somber mood of the song, they were comforting. For months she played nothing but that song, much to her mother's displeasure. Eventually Mrs. Bennet had decreed that the song would no longer be allowed in her home. Despite the fact that it had been many years since she had last played it, Elizabeth was surprised to find she still remembered it perfectly.

Even more surprising to her was the fact that despite her will, her eyes were drawn to those of Mr. Darcy's. She watched as tears silently fell from his as he mouthed the words along with her. Confused at both her own actions and his, she was sure she was going mad when she saw in his place a man with Darcy's ice blue eyes but with light sandy hair and a more angular face; a man she was sure she had seen before.

As she finished her song, she was grateful to discover that her eyes were no longer drawn to his and she could finally look away. Unable to bear the beating of her heart, she quickly abandoned the instrument to rejoin Charlotte, yet she could not help but let her attention wander frequently to where Mr. Darcy stood seemingly lost in thought.

When she had been accosted by Sir William as she crossed the room, her stomach began to perform acrobatics as he tried to give her hand to Mr. Darcy. Unwilling to suffer his attentions, as they always seemed to discompose her, she quickly declined his offer to dance. He wrought so many emotions in her that she did not want to be in close proximity of him afraid that they would only increase. As quickly as she could, she made her escape, determined never to dance with him.

That evening Jane came to her room and wished to discuss Mr. Bingley, with whom she was sure she was falling in love. Not wanting to share her confusing feelings with her dearest sister and perhaps ruining her mood, Elizabeth sat quietly listening with a faux smile plastered on her face, thinking instead of Mr. Bingley's mysterious friend.

* * *

*"My Lodging It Is On the Cold Ground" by Matthew Locke (1621-1677) The tune appeared in "The Dancing Master" (1665)


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _Flying as fast as he could, he looked around desperately for a spot of shelter._ Having finally finished preparing the land for winter a week behind schedule, he had been unable to make it home before the first of the storms hit. Torrential rain fell all around him, and he knew that if he did not find shelter soon, his wings would be too soaked to carry him any further.

Eventually he came upon a small grove of trees on the outskirts of a field. Hesitating, he knew the trees would not be the best shelter in this storm, but he doubted he would be able to find better anytime soon. Fighting a particularly strong gust of wind, he finally made it to the grove.

Searching around, he found a spot up against a particularly sturdy spruce tree that was decently dry. With practiced movements, he pulled the water from his soaking clothes and bags, sending it towards a small rivulet wending its way through the trees. Sighing in contentment at being dry once again, he pulled out some of his bread from a market town he had passed the day before and began to nibble on it lightly. Dry and fed, he gave in to his exhaustion and fell asleep.

Several hours later he was awoken by a change in the wind. Where he had been comfortably settled and protected from the rain before now no longer offered such cover. Frustrated, he looked around trying to find another spot to wait out the storm without success. Before long he began to try to coax the tree into moving its branches to offer him protection, but the tree would not comply with his wishes. Cursing himself for having delayed his journey, he found himself wishing he had been trapped in a grove of flowers instead; at least they would obey his will.

As he continued to fight with the tree, he was startled to hear soft laughter from behind him. Reaching for his sword as he spun around, he was surprised to find himself face to face with the elfish woman he had met a fortnight ago. Infuriated that she was laughing at him, he raised his sword in challenge, which of course only served to make her laugh harder.

"There is no need for your weapon milord," she said as she tried to contain her mirth. "If I had truly wished you harm, you would've been shot before you had even been aware of my presence."

With a sneer, he quickly sheathed his sword and turned again to the tree determined not to pay her any attention. As the tree continued to fight against him, he was unable to shake the feeling that she was standing directly behind him still silently laughing.

"Allow me, milord," she said. Without saying another word, she walked past him towards the tree and touched the trunk. Whispering a few words in the ancient language, she began to wave her hands as the tree followed her movements with its branches. Before long, several trees had formed a tight dome around the duo providing protection from both the wind and the rain. Amazed at her skills with the trees, and frustrated that he had been incapable of such magic himself, he finally allowed himself to fully observe his new companion.

She was dressed in a dark green tunic over her trousers and covered in a thick brown cloak. Her long auburn hair was falling out of its single braid hanging down her back. Drenched from the rain, it took him several moments to realize she was also covered head to foot in mud. Struggling not to give in to his own laughter, he looked up into her green eyes only to see them raised in question. Embarrassed at having been caught staring at her, he quickly donned a neutral facade and turned away looking for a dry spot to sit.

Hiding her own discomposure, she quickly apologized for not having secured them anywhere to sit, but hoped he was satisfied enough with the shelter. Concern at the rueful tone of her voice caused him to glance her way again, only to realize that she was colder and more miserable than him.

"If you would be so kind as to form a bowl from those leaves over there, madam, I would be happy to provide both a dry spot for us to sit as well as water for you to wash from."

With a raised eyebrow she replied, "So, the fair prince has manners does he? This is indeed a delightful discovery." Laughing once more at the heightened color in his cheeks she continued. "Of course it would be my pleasure to do as milord commands." And with a flourish, she waved her hand as the leaves nearby rose into the air and settled back down onto the ground having formed a perfect bowl. Having finished her task, she then looked up to him waiting for him to do as he said he would.

With his own flourish, he once again used his magic and pulled the water from her hair and clothes, as well as from the ground beneath the shelter of the trees. He watched her look of awe with pleasure, glad that he could impress her with his powers, and sent the water neatly into the bowl of leaves without losing a single drop.

Without saying a word, he motioned towards the bowl in an invitation for her to wash up while he once again settled himself against a tree trunk. Hesitantly, she began to wash the mud from her face as he watched her every movement. With a smirk, he realized his staring was making her uncomfortable; a fitting punishment for her ill treatment of him when they had last met. Once she had settled herself against her own tree trunk, she lifted her eyes defiantly to meet his.

Determined not to let this elf best him again, he decided he would be the first to speak.

"So, my dear Ellette, what brings you to this small grove of trees so far from your forests?"

Puzzled she cocked her head. "Ellette?"

"Indeed that is what I have decided you shall be called."

"You decided?"

"Most certainly," he replied with a smug smile pleased that she had taken his bait. "You were most uncivil by refusing to leave me a name with which I might call you when we last met that I determined I must give you one myself."

"So you settled on calling me 'Little Elf'?" She asked, a trace of ire flashing in her eyes.

"I believed it to be most fitting. After all, even as a woman you are very small for one of your race."

"Ah. So milord has a sense of humor as well as manners," she said with a harsh laugh leaning forward. "I might perhaps then agree that Ellette will suit me fine. Much better, I might say, than calling you 'Fair One'. What kind of name is that? Were you named such because you are one of the fair race? Or perhaps it is based off of your fair complexion and hair. Wait, I know. You were named 'Fair One' because you are destined to be a fair ruler."

Refusing to give in to his anger and let her win, Eavan nonchalantly shrugged off her laughter and replied, "Perhaps you might consider that I was indeed named for all three of those reasons."

Eyes wide open in shock she looked at him unwilling to believe that he refused to be affected by her words. Laughing at her with much amusement he said, "Now that I have sated your curiosity regarding our names, you could honor me with a reply to my own query."

Shaking her head to rid it of the confusing manners of the man in front of her she settled further into her tree before answering. "Due to the increased presence of the druids in our forests, we were unable to secure enough food for the winter. I am one of many elves who were sent across the land to hunt." At this she gestured towards a large cart he had failed to notice before, filled with many bundles wrapped in bark and leaves which he assumed were the animals she had killed. "Unfortunately," she continued, "I was detained a few days ago by a band of rogue elves that were unhappy that I had trespassed upon 'their' forest. I was hoping to arrive home today but I had failed to notice this storms approach.

"I had been unable to find shelter for several miles, and knew that to protect the food I have gathered, I needed to get out of the storm and quickly. Upon spying this grove of trees, I knew it was my best option. Imagine my surprise to find the Fairy Prince upon my arrival trying to influence the trees to do his will. I would have thought if you had been as desperate for shelter as you appeared, you would have been better off shrinking yourself down to a smaller size and hiding among a thick patch of pine needles."

"And risk getting swept away by the wind? I had thought you were in possession of better wits than that, or perhaps my demise would have been preferable to you," he scoffed.

Paling, she quickly began to apologize. "Milord, indeed I had not thought of that. Please forgive me for my thoughtless comment. Of course in such a storm a larger size must indeed be to your advantage."

Knitting his eyebrows in concern he looked at her. She was indeed distraught at the thought that she had so carelessly suggested something so harmful to him. Wishing to ease her discomfort, without knowing why, he reached over to where she sat, took her hand and bestowed a kiss upon it. "Fear not Ellette that I hold any animosity towards you for your suggestion. It is understandable that one who is unused to the ability of changing ones size would not consider such things to be so dangerous."

Blushing at his touch, she mumbled a simple thank you before they both settled back against their trees in companionable silence.

Shortly afterwards, the elf looked up towards him and asked if he would care for some dinner as she herself was quite famished. Nodding in appreciation he offered what little bread he had left, but she merely shook her head, walked over to her cart and retrieved a small package of meat. Having declined his offer of assistance, she began to prepare the meat and the fire. However, when she reached for her flint to start the fire, she dropped it among the many packages in the cart.

Instead of letting her unpack her cart simply to retrieve the flint, Eavan offered to find it himself. Shrinking down to the size of a small bird, he was able to fly between the packages towards the bottom of the cart and easily found the flint. When he had returned to his normal size, he was amused at the look of astonishment upon her face.

"Do I so astonish you, Ellette that you must stare in such a brazen manner at me?" he teased.

Blushing, she closed her mouth and turned away in embarrassment as she started the fire. "I must admit," she stammered, "that I was indeed surprised you could actually change your size. I had thought perhaps that you were merely trying to impress me with your words so that I would release you. I of course did not believe you."

Frowning he said, "I will not deny that I was indeed trying to manipulate you into letting myself go. I am surprised, however, that you would doubt my word about my abilities. Despite what you may have heard about me, I do not make a practice of going around boasting of skills I do not have. For that matter, it is only in extreme circumstances that I boast of those I do have, and it is never a comfortable experience for me. It is why I volunteered for this job; I grow quite tired of the constant attentions I receive at home."

"Forgive me then, milord, for having caused you such distress. I suppose you were right; I truly do not know you or what it is I am talking about."

"You must stop all this apologizing. Although I do enjoy it more than your high and mighty demeanor, I find myself quite displeased with it." Smiling at the look of shock upon her face he continued. "I admit that of the many sides to your personality I have seen thus far, I much prefer your light and teasing manners. Now with that thought in mind, might I ask why it is you doubted my abilities?"

Chuckling quietly, she shyly looked up from the fire into his eyes. "Are you sure that milord would care to hear my reasoning? For I would not wish to make him feel like a fool."

"Try me," he challenged, truly enjoying himself for the first time that evening.

"I sat there in that forest for three hours watching you struggle against those branches. I had thought that if you could truly change your size, you would have. It would have made your imprisonment of quite a short duration."

Amazed, she watched as he threw his head back and laughed, his rich tenor tones filling their little shelter with joy. Before long she found herself laughing along with him, unable to remove her eyes from his dancing blue ones.

"Are you telling me, Ellette, that I could have simply shrunk myself and escaped your branches?" he asked wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Indeed I am. Actually, if you had done so from the very beginning, I would not have been able to detain you at all. Although we elves are the greatest hunters in the world, not even we could hit a moving fly."

Her last statement caused his laughter to begin anew, and the two spent the evening sharing stories filled with joy and amusement. Eventually the elf began to doze, and having slept earlier, Eavan insisted she lay down to rest while he kept watch.

Shortly after dawn, he woke her to let her know that the storm had finally passed and they should continue on their way. After being assured that she was not in need of his assistance or company he bid her farewell and turned to leave when she called him back. Turning expectantly towards her, he was amused to see her shyly looking down at the ground while shuffling her feet back and forth.

"Iliana."

"Pardon me?" he asked confused.

"Iliana. My name. It is Iliana."

Smiling he said, "'Bright'. Now would that be for the brightness of your spirit, or perhaps your smile? Yet still, could it be the brightness that shines from your bewitching eyes?"

"Yes," she whispered, neither denying nor confirming his conjectures.

Walking back towards her, he once again took her hand in is and bestowed a kiss upon it. "I do believe 'Bright' is an apt description for you, milady. Yet I find myself still quite partial to Ellette."

 _With that he dropped her hand and flew off laughing quietly, leaving her behind with a bemused smile upon her face mumbling about the proud and arrogant fairy._

.

.

.

Dazed, Darcy woke up from his unexpected nap, smiling at that morning's scene which had caused that particular memory to surface. The previous evening while the gentlemen of Netherfield were dining with the officers, Bingley's sisters had invited the eldest Bennet daughter to dine with them. Unfortunately for the young lady, she had been sent over by her mother on horseback and had been caught in the rain. During dinner she had taken cold and had been shown to a room for the night. That morning, shortly after receiving a note from her ailing sister, Miss Elizabeth made the journey herself on foot.

She had been shown into the breakfast room while the household was still partaking of their morning repast. The various reactions of the room's occupants upon her entry were not lost upon Darcy, although he had eyes only for her. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of exercise, her cheeks brightened by the outdoor chill and her windswept hair was escaping from her simple bun under her bonnet. All this he noticed, yet it was her hems covered in mud that truly caught his attention, much as it had that stormy day long ago.

Unable to mutter more than a simple greeting at the unexpected pleasure of her presence, Darcy was thrilled that Bingley at least was able to offer her a proper welcome. Surely that would have been the duty of the mistress of the house, but Miss Bingley seemed much too preoccupied with staring at Miss Elizabeth in dismay.

While Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst accompanied their new guest upstairs to Miss Bennet's room, Darcy grudgingly joined the other gentlemen for a day of sport. Much to Mr. Hurst's disappointment and Darcy's relief, Bingley was not as attentive as he normally was due to his concern over Miss Bennet's health. Thankfully, Bingley decided to end the day early wishing to check up on her progress.

Worried that he would miss her, Darcy was thrilled to arrive just in time to hear Miss Bingley change her offer to Miss Elizabeth from the carriage home to staying until her sister's recovery. The joy and happiness he felt at her staying in the same house as him for a few days seemed to shine from her eyes as well; although he soon realized her joy was at the relief of not leaving her sister to be cared for by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.

Knowing that he would not likely have an opportunity to converse with Miss Elizabeth until dinner, Darcy had retired to the library to read a new book he had recently purchased. However, he had been unable to concentrate on the tome in his hands as his mind wandered to the picture Miss Elizabeth had presented upon her arrival that morning. Lost in his thoughts he had dozed off.

Upon waking, he realized that it was past time to begin to dress for dinner, and that his valet was most likely waiting impatiently for his master. Quickly scooping up his forgotten book from the seat, Darcy strode out of the library upstairs to his room anxious for the opportunity to see his love again.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dinner that first evening was a trying affair for Darcy. As soon as Miss Elizabeth entered the room, she was ushered by Miss Bingley to the seat farthest from him. Conversation at first focused on her elder sister and the Bingley's concern for her health. It did not take long though before Miss Bingley tired of the topic of her ill friend and turned her focus onto Darcy. Unable to escape her attentions, Darcy let his frustration at being unable to converse with Miss Elizabeth steadily grow.

As soon as the final course was finished, Miss Elizabeth excused herself to once again attend her sister. Not sharing the same concern for her ailing guest, Miss Bingley failed to understand Elizabeth's haste, and began to abuse her as soon as the door behind her shut.

"I must say, what poor manners Miss Elizabeth has; such a mixture of pride and impertinence. She has absolutely no conversation, no style, no taste, and no beauty."

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker," Mrs. Hurst said in agreement. "I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must _she_ be scampering about the county, because her sister has a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy?"

"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said Bingley; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

" _You_ observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley; "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see _your sister_ make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not," Mr. Darcy replied. Turning to hide his smile he tried to picture Georgiana covered in mud. She was such a proper young lady that the thought was humorous. Indeed, he would not wish to see her in such a state; but she was not an elf who had lived hundreds of lives.

Miss Bingley, having caught sight of Mr. Darcy's smile before he turned, understood it to mean that he was enjoying hearing of Miss Elizabeth's many faults so continued her tirade. "To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most county-town indifference to decorum."

"It shows an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley to which Darcy silently agreed. In all their lives, she had never been one for following proper decorum in such matters as these, and he would not have it any other way. It was one of the first of her many self-perceived character flaws that he had fallen in love with.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley, in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes."

"Not at all," he replied; "they were brightened by the exercise." Indeed, they had been so bright and green that for a moment that morning he thought that perhaps she might have remembered him.

After a short pause, Mrs. Hurst was eager to begin again. "I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton." Miss Bingley said, favoring her elder sister with a grateful smile.

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister as they both laughed heartily.

"If they had uncles enough to fill _all_ Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must very materially lessen their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy. Although Bingley had no reply to this speech, his sisters delighted in it very much and continued their amusement at their friend's expense. Darcy, however, could only think about Miss Elizabeth and the truth of his statement. If he could only succeed this time and end the curse, then he had just lied; for his marriage to Miss Elizabeth would indeed raise her family's standing. If, however, they once again failed and they both died, then who could say what would happen. If only Bingley had more of a backbone and truly loved Miss Bennet he mused.

Before long, the ladies repaired to Miss Bennet's room much to the gentlemen's relief, and remained until coffee was served. Much to Darcy's disappointment, Miss Elizabeth did not return with them claiming that her sister was too ill to be left alone while still awake.

The whole party was immersed in a game of loo when Miss Elizabeth finally rejoined the household. She was immediately asked if she would care to join them, but declined and instead selected a book from a nearby table.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" Mr. Hurst asked with astonishment and a tinge of disgust. "That is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else." Miss Bingley smirked.

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Elizabeth; "I am _not_ a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley; "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well. In the meantime, I pray you feel free to help yourself to any of my books. I only wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever look into."

"Indeed, sir, I thank you," she replied with a soft smile; "Let me only assure you that I shall be quite content with what I have found here."

"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"

"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books."

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these." Knowing that Miss Bingley was willing to discuss any subject she deemed herself superior in to exclude Miss Elizabeth from the conversation, he turned to the latter before Miss Bingley could continue her unsolicited praise of him. "If I may be so bold as to inquire, Miss Elizabeth, what book is it that you have selected for your enjoyment this evening?"

He watched as her eyebrows shot up in surprise at having been directly addressed by him. He knew then that he needed to apologize for his words at the assembly as soon as may be.

"Certainly sir," she replied, eyeing him warily. "It is one of my favorites, 'Romeo and Juliet'"

"You cannot be serious!" he said letting disbelief and disdain color his voice as the entire party looked upon him in astonishment. Realizing his mistake he hastily added, "Pray forgive me Miss Bennet for my outburst. I was simply astonished to hear you confess to enjoying a tragedy. It was not what I would have imagined you to enjoy." Uncomfortable with the eyes of all the rooms' occupants upon him, he began to fidget in his seat and struggled to maintain eye contact with Miss Elizabeth.

Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth began to speak only to quickly close her mouth and swallow the harsh retort he was sure she desired to give. Instead she looked down into her lap as though her composure relied upon the sight. "And may I ask, sir, why you find this discovery of my character so surprising. We have hardly spoken after all, and I am quite sure the topic of books has never been raised between us before."

Forcing back a snort, Darcy willed her to once again meet his eyes, thinking of the many conversations regarding books they had had over the years. Although she had in the past enjoyed many a tragedy, she had always religiously avoided 'Romeo and Juliet'; it was a story she abhorred above all others. To hear her proclaim it a favorite, he could not believe. Doubt regarding her identity began to resurface, but he quickly pushed it back down just as he gave up hope of her looking up from her lap.

"While it may be true, Miss Bennet, that we have not been acquainted long nor have had such a discussion as you suggest, I believe I may safely say that I am sure of my opinion. I highly doubt that one who seems to be as cheerful as often as you seem to be cannot seriously entertain preferences of such a dismal nature."

Shocked by his reply, she looked back up at him. "There you would be wrong, Mr. Darcy. While I do enjoy a cheerful disposition, what you imply is that I do not believe in the power of love."

"I said nothing of the kind, madam."

"Oh? But indeed you did. This tragic story is one of Shakespeare's most popular for such a reason, sir and has been _en vogue_ for several generations I understand. Is it not the idea of their true love for each other that has all the fashionable ladies of the _ton_ swooning at the mere mention of the work? Ask any lady in town who she believed has most accurately portrayed the ideal of true love and I can guarantee most if not all would say Romeo and Juliet."

Ignoring Miss Bingley's and Mrs. Hurst's objections to her insinuations, Darcy narrowed his eyes in challenge and said, "I would not stoop to call such a love between two children as true. They had known each other for a mere three days before they secretly wed then killed themselves."

"Are you saying that you would not willingly sacrifice yourself for one you love, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy recoiled as her words hit him, almost dropping his cards upon the floor. Putting his hand down on the table so as not to lose it, he turned further in his chair towards her, willing to keep the pain from his expression. "I would do anything necessary to protect those I love, even if it meant sacrificing my own life. There will always be honor in that. I cannot find honor, however, in giving up hope ignorantly as they had done and calling that love. Their actions were nothing more than pure desperation born from what could have easily been a passing folly. Is it not human nature to want most what we have been told we cannot have? Such is the case with your favorite couple, Miss Bennet."

"Who is to say that a love as strong as theirs is not possible to find in such a short time? Not to mention that even at such a young age they were willing to take the necessary steps to declare their love eternal through marriage."

"Certainly, if you desire a hasty marriage done in secret," Darcy huffed.

"You believe they did wrong?"

"I do. If what they felt was indeed true affection and love for each other, they would not have let anything stand in their way. They would have proudly shared their connection for all to see and been willing to face the consequences together. I would call them no less than ignorant cowards; for secrets can never end in happiness."

"And this you must speak from experience to have such a firm opinion of it," she replied.

"Indeed I am well aware of what damage such secrets can create," Darcy sighed in defeat finally looking away from her smug smile. It was, after all, a like secret that had led to their being cursed.

Even without her memories, Darcy was at a loss to understand how she had taken such a liking to the play. He well remembered the day one of _The Lord Chamberlain's Men_ had taken ill before a performance and he had been required to fill the role of Juliet. At the time, the play was only a few months old and had become quite a favorite. As an aspiring young actor who had worked for the company as a stagehand for well over a year, he had been overjoyed to take over the role, if even for a single night. He had been in the middle of the beloved balcony scene when he caught sight of a pair of green eyes filled with tears staring at him from the audience in horror. He was still unsure all these years later, how he managed to finish the scene, let alone the rest of the play, amidst the onslaught of his returning memories.

After the performance was completed, he quickly sought Iliana out of the crowd and begged her on bended knees for her forgiveness in his participating in the play. It had not taken him long to realize that the stories from which Shakespeare had based his play off of were loosely based off of their own tragic story. Though the only similarities between Romeo and Juliet and themselves were differing houses, or in their own case races, and their deaths, it was enough of a similarity to occasion great pain.

The following day he had quit the company only to discover that his beloved was wanted for a crime she had committed before her own memories had returned. After suffering through her public hanging, he had gone and thrown himself before a carriage, his last thoughts being of his jealousy for Romeo's simple life and having thrown it all away.

"Darcy! I say man, are you still with us?" Bingley asked concern in his voice.

"Pardon me, Bingley, I seem to have been woolgathering." Darcy said, shaking his head to rid it of the painful memory.

"That does seem to be a recent habit of yours, Darcy. But I must say it is not to me to whom you must apologize."

Darcy quickly looked back towards Miss Elizabeth and saw much amusement in her eyes as she attempted to hide her smile. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to voice an apology to the lady and inquired as to what she had last said which in turn only increased her amusement.

"That is quite alright, Mr. Darcy," she said. "I do not believe we could agree on the subject, so I suggest we lay it to rest."

With those words, she again turned to her book while the rest of the party returned to their game. Darcy, however, was not able to concentrate on the game as his mind kept wandering to the puzzle Miss Elizabeth presented him. He was certain she was indeed Iliana, but could not help but wonder why things were so different this time around. Never before had it taken him so long to find her, and never before had he not instantly recognized her. To top it all off, she seemed different than before. So lost was he in his thoughts, he played several rounds very poorly and failed to notice Miss Elizabeth's approach to the table.

Miss Bingley rightfully understood the unpleasant conversation with Miss Elizabeth to have been the culprit for his poor performance and wished to put the man at ease. "How does your sister get along, Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

Surprised Darcy looked up and replied, "very well, I thank you Miss Bingley."

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."

Sharing an annoyed look with her elder sister across the table, she sought once more to exclude Miss Elizabeth from possibly joining the conversation. She wanted to alleviate Mr. Darcy's discomfort, not aggravate it. "How I long to see her again!" she simpered. "I never met anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manner, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite."

Barely managing to keep from letting out a harsh laugh, Darcy considered that Miss Bingley had just credited Georgiana with everything she had accused Miss Elizabeth lacking of only earlier that morning. Unable to think of a kind reply, he was grateful that Bingley decided to join the discussion.

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?" Miss Bingley demanded.

"Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments has too much truth," Darcy said. Although he knew he should not indulge himself, he wished to once again draw Miss Elizabeth into the discussion hoping for a new insight into her character that might help him understand her better. He also could not deny himself the opportunity to bring Miss Bingley's ego down a notch or two. He continued, "the word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley eager to agree with anything he said.

"Then," observed Miss Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman."

Pleased with his success thus far he replied, "Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it."

"Oh! Certainly," cried his annoyingly faithful assistant, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved."

Chuckling to himself, Darcy knew that while Miss Bingley might be correct in the fact that Miss Elizabeth might not fit the list of required accomplishments, Iliana did, as well as surpass it. To this thought he added aloud, "All this she must possess, and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing _only_ six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing _any_." Miss Elizabeth said knowing full well that Darcy had only added the last as a slight to Miss Bingley.

"Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?" he asked.

 _"_ _I_ never saw such a woman. _I_ never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united."

Ignoring once again the many objections of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst to her implied doubt, Darcy leaned back comfortably in his chair, looking forward to the day when her memories returned and he could remind her that she did not believe a woman such as herself could truly exist.

Shortly afterwards, Mr. Hurst drew their attention back to the game having grown tired of the inane conversations of the evening. It was then that Miss Elizabeth retired again to her sister's room only to briefly appear once more to inform her hosts of her sister's worsened condition. Proper concern was shown by all as assurances that Mr. Jones the apothecary would be called for in the morning.

Refusing to give heed to Miss Bingley's continued insults, Darcy considered sneaking into Miss Bennet's room that evening to heal her thus relieving Miss Elizabeth of her worry. To do that, however, would lead to the ladies' vacating Netherfield sooner than he wanted. Instead he settled into his own bed that night, determined to wait. If indeed Miss Bennet's health continued to worsen, he would help; if not, he would let nature take its course thus offering him more time to attempt to restore Miss Elizabeth's memories.

* * *

 **AN:** Just to clarify, although "Romeo and Juliet" is far from being a favorite of mine, I do not hate it. I do, however, tend to view the play from Darcy's point of view. I actually based this off of an hour long discussion I had in my Advanced English class my freshman year of High School over 10 years ago. Our class was equally divided between those who viewed it at the most romantic of stories, and those of us who see it as nothing more than a tragedy of two young teens passing folly. If I had to choose the ultimate couple who to me most accurately portrayed my ideal of true love (Besides Darcy and Elizabeth of course), I would have to choose Benedick and Beatrice from Shakespeare's "Much Ado About Nothing" which consequently is my favorite work of his. They had known each other for years, including each others faults, and were willing to overcome everything to be together, with a _little_ help from their friends. To me, "Romeo and Juliet" is over romanticized, and though I admire it as a classic work, I tend to avoid it. However, it just happened to fit perfectly into my story here so I just had to use it. With that in mind, I would love to hear your own thoughts about the young tragic couple. I simply added this AN so as to avoid any hating for "bashing" a classic.

I also want to thank each and every one of you for your support thus far. I am amazed at the incredible and kind reviews I have received as well as all the followers and favorites. I hope you continue to enjoy! Much love to you all, Allahteeah!


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Darcy paced back and forth upon the carpet in the library in frustration. For three days he had resided in the same house as Miss Elizabeth and still had had no luck in restoring her memories or even improving her opinion of him. He had tried everything possible without using his magic, an option he was beginning to seriously consider. Yet he knew that to do so in the present household was simply too risky. Despite all his efforts to rid himself of the woman, Miss Bingley had been extra attentive to him ever since Miss Elizabeth's arrival. The thought that he should not have mentioned his admiration of Miss Elizabeth's eyes to the lady crossed his agitated mind yet again.

Sighing, Darcy stopped in front of the window and gazed out while running a hand through his hair. Unable to process the view outside, he silently contemplated how fruitless his efforts thus far had been. Although he admitted that the discussion he held with Miss Elizabeth her first evening at Netherfield could have gone better, he was reluctant to acknowledge the fact that indeed it had been the best.

The morning following their discussion on the required accomplishments of a lady, Mrs. Bennet had arrived with her two youngest, and silliest, daughters in order to assess her eldest's condition for herself. Despite his distaste for the woman's mannerisms and opinions, especially as regarded her daughters and Miss Elizabeth in particular, he had eagerly attempted to join in the conversation. This effort, unfortunately, merely gave Mrs. Bennet cause to show her own dislike for Darcy; apparently the opinion of the neighborhood towards him was worse than he thought if this was how Mrs. Bennet treated his attempt at civility. Although Miss Elizabeth had stepped in and attempted to correct her mother's misconceptions of his words, Darcy had not missed the amusement in her eyes at his expense.

If Darcy had thought that it could not get any worse than Miss Elizabeth's amusement at her mother's insults towards him, he would have found himself to be very disappointed. Since then, he had attempted on multiple occasions to converse with her, all of which ended up in near heated disagreements. Hoping to catch her alone, he had attempted to escape the house for a walk around the same time she usually took hers, only to end up being accompanied by Miss Bingley and her disparagements towards the Bennet's, a conversation he knew to have been overheard by Miss Elizabeth. At one point he had even asked her to dance with him to which she had denied him much to her own amusement.

Slamming his fist against the window frame, Darcy cursed her insolent attitude. How could he apologize if she refused to hear him out let alone understand what he wished to say? Only the night before he had tried to compliment her by insinuating that he found her figure pleasing to the eye. In return, she retaliated by pointed out his flaws before the entire company gathered and proceeded to laugh at him. Her teasing he had slowly learned to accept and love over the years, but her laughter at his expense was insupportable.

Brushing away a single tear, Darcy asked himself why the woman he loved was so intent on hating him.

At that moment, Darcy's reverie was broken by the sounds of Miss Bingley asking a nearby footman if he had seen her brother's friend. Not wishing to have his solitude interrupted by the woman he had at last succeeded at avoiding that morning, Darcy placed a barricade around himself that would allow him to stand there unnoticed by anyone passing by. A moment later, the lady entered the library calling his name in a sickly sweet voice. Knowing that to remain unseen he must not move, Darcy unconsciously held his breath and prayed that she would leave the room.

Miss Bingley, however, seemed in no rush to leave. Having wandered around the room looking in all the many places a person of his size could hide, she turned to the small table by the chair he had been sitting in. Running her long bony finger along the edge of his half filled wine glass, she continued to let her gaze search the room for him. Disappointment written clearly all over her face, she slowly reached down to pick up his neglected book. Darcy watched as she carelessly began flipping pages, stopping every so often to read a sentence or two. Eventually she all but threw the book back down on the table and with disgust mumbled to herself, "improvement of one's mind by extensive reading indeed."

"Caroline! I was wondering where you had gone off to," Mrs. Hurst said as she entered the room. "That was most unkind of you to leave me with the Miss Bennet's. Pray tell me why you are in the library of all places. I would not have thought you even knew where this room was located," she said looking around in surprise.

"Forgive me, Louisa, but I could not stand another minute in Miss Eliza's tedious company. I very much regret agreeing to Charles' insistence that our carriage would not be available for their use until after services tomorrow."

"I must say, I am still at a loss to understand why you did agree. I thought you were most anxious to send our guests home."

"I am indeed, Louisa," Caroline said. "But how could I not agree with our brother when Mr. Darcy was standing there witnessing the whole affair? You are aware of how hard I have been acting in order to show him that I would be a most proper and attentive Mistress of Pemberley, are you not?"

At her words, Darcy struggled not to voice his disgust to the idea of the woman managing his home. He was certain that if she were ever to gain such a position, he would lose his entire staff within a week; a most humorous and disturbing thought as he would be lost without his loyal servants.

"Indeed I am very much aware of your interest in the gentleman," Mrs. Hurst continued. "I assume that is why I have found you here?"

"Of course it is Louisa! Do not be such a simpleton." Miss Bingley snapped. "I cannot allow Mr. Darcy to fall prey to Miss Eliza's artifices. While he may find her fine eyes alluring, he has made it plain for all to see the last few evenings that he does not care for her impertinence and poor upraising."

Shocked, Darcy nearly stumbled backwards into the window sill before remembering that he must not move. He wondered if that was truly the opinion he had given the others after his attempts to converse with Miss Elizabeth. He thought he had been making good attempts towards reconciling with her, but according to Miss Bingley, Miss Elizabeth was not the only person who willfully misunderstood all that he had said. Despair began to overcome him as he realized that he had only made his goal of helping her recover her memories much more difficult to achieve. All he wanted was to show her that he cared about her opinions and intellect, but he had once again failed.

Suddenly realizing that he had been so lost in his thoughts he had missed a good portion of the sisters' conversation, he became quite alarmed upon seeing Mrs. Hurst headed directly towards him. While his barrier protected him from being noticed, it would not, however, keep him hidden if another person came into physical contact with him. Closing his eyes, Darcy hoped that she would stop her advance or turn before running into him.

"You cannot seriously be suggesting, Louisa, that Mr. Darcy has left the library via the window? What a horrid idea to imagine such a proper gentleman acting in such a manner." For the first time in their acquaintance, Darcy was thrilled to hear Miss Bingley's condescending tone as it had successfully stopped her sister mere inches from his chest. As Mrs. Hurst turned to walk back towards her younger sister, Darcy quickly released the breath he had not realized he had held.

"I am simply at a loss, Caroline, as to how else Mr. Darcy could have left the library unseen by anyone. If it were not for his book and that glass of wine sitting there, I would have thought the footman to be very much mistaken."

Stomping her foot in disappointment, Miss Bingley looked upon her sister in sudden understanding. "Oh why did you not say so before, Louisa? Of course the footman was mistaken. How did I not see that? Surely Mr. Darcy must have left the library in a great hurry and the man simply missed his exit. I dare say this would not have happened if Charles had heeded my advice and hired only servants from town. These local country folk simply cannot be trusted." Ignoring her sister's exasperation, Miss Bingley continued. "Indeed I am sure Mr. Darcy will return shortly. I will simply wait here for his return. When he enters he will see me enjoying the pleasures of a book and I am sure will be most pleased."

Chuckling inwardly, Darcy watched in amusement as Mrs. Hurst instead convinced her sister that he might be gone awhile and that she was in need of her company for herself; after all, Miss Bennet had returned upstairs to rest while her own sister left for yet another walk in the gardens. Miss Bingley reluctantly followed her sister from the room while commenting meanly upon Miss Elizabeth's penchant for long walks. Darcy, meanwhile listened, waiting for the sisters to travel further from his hideout. Guilt and amusement, however, battled within him as he heard Miss Bingley reprimand the footman for not paying close enough attention to his post.

When he was assured that the sisters would not be returning to the library, Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and turned once more to the window letting his barrier drop. Wishing for the days when he could simply shrink to a smaller size and thus hide easier, Darcy heard the entrance of the footman and turned in time to see the startled look upon the poor man's face.

"Mr. Darcy, sir. Pray forgive me for the intrusion, sir. I understood you to have left the room." The footman bowed low and began to look uncomfortably around the room.

Wishing to ease the man's discomfort, Darcy nodded to the footman with a slight smile. "It is of no consequence, Carson. Indeed it was my intention to escape Miss Bingley's notice. I rejoice in my unexpected success. I only hope she was not too harsh with you."

Darcy had watched as the man's eyebrows rose in shocked pleasure. He had not failed to notice that none of the Bingley's had attempted to learn the names of the lesser staff members while it was a necessary duty in Darcy's opinion. He had learned that the sooner one learned a servant's name the sooner one would gain said servants loyalty. He had served many different masters over the years himself, thus Darcy knew that the only families worth working for were those who took the time to learn his name.

"No sir, I thank you," the footman responded with a hesitant smile of his own.

"Very good, I am glad to hear that. I would hate for my strange disappearance to have been a source of trouble for you."

If the man had been shocked before, it was nothing to what he showed after hearing Darcy's kind words. Although the Netherfield staff had known that Mr. Darcy was a kind and understanding man, they had also heard from town that he was a proud and arrogant one. To find that he worried about his employment was truly unexpected. Never before had the footman been treated such.

Wishing to leave Darcy to his solitude once again, not to mention share news of his solicitous behavior with the other servants, the footman bowed low again and asked in a stuttering voice, "is...is there anything...may I help you in any way, Mr. Darcy, sir."

Regretting the man's sudden hesitance and discomfort, Darcy simply shook his head and thanked him. As he turned to leave though, Darcy called him back. "Perhaps you would be so kind, Carson, as to fetch me a fresh glass of wine?" At the footman's confused glance at the glass on the table still containing drink, Darcy chuckled and added with a wide grin, "preferably a glass that has not been fondled by Miss Bingley, if you please."

As comprehension dawned upon the footman, he nervously looked up at Darcy and let out a slight chuckle of his own. Upon seeing Darcy's pleased countenance, Carson grinned and promised to return soon with a new glass. Darcy thanked the man and then dismissed him as he turned yet again to the window. It did not take long for Carson to return with the fresh wine and Darcy was once more left in solitude.

Staring unseeingly at his reflection in the window, Darcy sipped his wine reflecting on all he had just learned from the conversation between Miss Bingley and her sister. It was apparent that he had a lot more to do to gain Miss Elizabeth's favor than he thought. What a muddled mess he found himself in, he contemplated. If only he could find a way to guarantee a few minutes alone with her. Alas, propriety dictated that that was not acceptable.

When Darcy had first received his memories, he was excited at the prospect of being a gentleman as it would afford him greater opportunity and freedom to search for Iliana. Now that he had finally found her and had insulted her, he found his status more of a hindrance than a help. Although it was true that he had to answer to no one but himself, he was unfortunately bound by the rules of propriety as long as Miss Elizabeth remained ignorant of her true identity. It would be much simpler to be alone with her if he was not a gentleman.

With a chuckle he recalled a time, almost two hundred years ago now, when he had been nothing more than a shop boy and she a local chambermaid. She had been sent one afternoon by the cook of the great house she was employed at, to return a newly delivered package of meat that was spoilt. From the moment she had entered the shop, he could not help but follow her with his eyes. As she left, he had discretely pulled her aside to tell her how enchanting she looked. She had blushed most becomingly and for several weeks, the two were able to meet often as he helped her to regain her memories. Although they were both bound by their master's schedules, no one thought their meeting alone was improper.

What such simple lives servants led. Darcy was well aware that there were many out there who begrudged their station in life, although he felt no compassion for them. If only they realized that in many ways they had so much more freedom than those of the landed gentry. Every move of his was always watched carefully, every word he uttered broken apart for study. No one truly cared about what a servant did unless it affected their service. They were not bound to act as propriety dictated; yet another curse he must now bear.

With that thought, Darcy decided that there was nothing he could do now, as Miss Elizabeth seemed determined to avoid him at all costs. He would simply wait, continue to attempt to converse with her, and take the first opportunity she allowed him to heartily apologize to her. He realized that until then there was no point to his moping around the library; he might as well continue to read.

As he began to head back towards his chair, however, Darcy felt as though someone was watching him. Seeing no one else in the library, he looked back out the window searching the grounds. Disconcerted, he saw no one, yet the feeling remained. Someone was out there, and although he could not see who it was, he knew that they could see him. Fear began to course through his veins as he realized that whoever it was could only be of magical blood. He knew that both he and Iliana had been watched over throughout all their lifetimes, but neither had seen another magical being since their first death well over a millennium ago. However, whoever was now watching him, was no ordinary person, but one of great power. Thoughts and speculations began to flood his mind, none of them of any comfort, as to who was out there and what they could possibly want. Whoever it was, it did not bode well for him and Iliana.

A sound from behind him made him jump as he turned around. Struggling to calm down his fast beating heart, he looked into the shocked hazel eyes of Miss Elizabeth. She was clutching a book to her chest and looked just as surprised to see him there.

"Pardon me, Mr. Darcy," she said with a small curtsey, "I did not see you there. I am sorry for startling you so."

Bowing in return, Darcy almost spilled the wine in his hand having forgotten he still held it. "It is of no matter Miss Bennet. Please do not worry yourself on my behalf. I am afraid I was too lost in my own thoughts and thus did not hear your entrance."

"In that case, sir, I beg you would excuse me; I would not wish to disturb your privacy."

Not wishing for her to leave, Darcy quickly reassured her that he would warmly welcome her company. With a raised eyebrow, she considered him for a moment before seating herself on the sofa. Sending a small comforting smile in her direction, he sat down in the chair that he had abandoned earlier and setting down his wine glass, picked up his book. Darcy watched over the top of his book as she regarded him with a confused expression before settling in to enjoy her own book.

Unable to concentrate on anything other than the young woman sitting across from him, Darcy hadn't failed to notice that his greatest desire had come to pass. After three days, he found himself alone with Miss Elizabeth. A small movement outside in the hallway caught his attention briefly as he noticed that Carson had moved to a new position so that the two of them would not be left completely un-chaperoned. Silently muttering to himself, Darcy once more cursed the fact that he was a gentleman and as such he could not be alone with her in the way he desired, in the way he needed to help her remember; ridiculous propriety.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy. Did you say something?"

"I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet. I was mumbling to myself. I am sorry to have disturbed your reading." He watched as she attempted to hide her smile. "Have I said something to amuse you Miss Bennet?" he asked in confusion.

He watched as she raised her sparkling eyes to meet his and his heart skipped a beat. "I was merely contemplating the fact that you seemed to be merely repeating my own words from earlier."

Chuckling quietly he replied, "So it would seem. Although I hope that by doing so you do not take what I have said to be insincere."

Nodding seriously, she quickly returned her attention back towards her book. Not wishing to discompose her further, Darcy attempted to do the same but again could not keep his attention from wandering back to her. Knowing that this might be his last chance to talk to her for a while, he began to address her when she interrupted him.

"Mr. Darcy, I was under the impression that you were in the library seeking solitude. Indeed that is the reason I came here myself. If, however, you are in want of conversation, I believe you can find the other ladies in the front parlor."

Struggling to contain his frustration, he nodded sharply and returned to his book. For half an hour the two sat there, in silence. One seemed content to read while the other merely gave the appearance of understanding what was in front of him. When she finally stood up to leave, he stood as well to bow and regretfully watched her walk away. Unwilling to lose his last chance, however, he quickly made a rash decision and moved into action.

.

.

.

Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to leave Netherfield. For three days she had been attending her sister all while attempting to deal with the residents of the house. Mr. Bingley was the only occupant with whom Elizabeth could feel at ease with as he seemed truly delighted in her company. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst took every opportunity available to let her know of their low opinion of her and her family, while Mr. Hurst did not deem her worthy of his attention. Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, was an enigma she wished to avoid.

She had been truly shocked upon that first evening when he had initiated a conversation with her and the fury she felt at his assumptions of her preferences increased her dislike of the man. She did not understand why the man continued over the following days to attempt to converse with her, and she was not ignorant of his efforts at finding a moment alone with her. The man had made it very clear that he disliked her as much as she did him. Yet despite this knowledge, she could not stop her heart from skipping a beat every time she looked upon him.

Elizabeth had always been in control of her emotions, and to feel at a loss whenever Mr. Darcy was around deeply unsettled her. Everyday found her anxiety to return home increasing at a rapid rate.

That afternoon, when she had entered the library, it was not until she had already selected a book that she noticed the tall handsome man standing by the window. He was a stranger to her, yet there was something familiar about his stance as he searched the view beyond the window. When he turned around in shock at her arrival, Elizabeth was mortified to discover the man she had been admiring was none other than the proud and disagreeable Mr. Darcy. She had been so sure that he had been someone else before he turned around. She began to berate herself for reading too many novels during Jane's convalescence.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable conversation, Elizabeth took a seat and watched as he took his. Wishing to ignore the man's presence she eagerly lost herself in her book only to be shortly distracted by his mumbling. Not sure if he had been addressing her or not, she inquired as to what he had said. She soon began to amuse herself with his discomfort, until he stated that his apology was indeed sincere. She again began to read.

Frustration with the man soon overcame her when she heard his address. Not wishing to have yet another heated argument with him, she was quick to cut him off and warn him of her desire for solitude. Disappointed that he simply nodded instead of leaving the room, she tried yet again to read.

Although she soon lost herself in the pages of the story, she was not unaware of the gentleman's constant gaze. When she had finished her second chapter, she decided she could take no more of his disconcerting presence and decided she would fare better with Mr. Bingley's sisters. As she turned to leave, however, the room around her distorted and she found Mr. Darcy blocking her way.

Not wanting to have a confrontation with the man, she tried to move around him only to discover she was unable to move any part of her body. She then tried to open her mouth to voice her displeasure and realized that she had no voice. Looking quickly behind him, she saw that the footman right outside the door seemed frozen in time, his hand raised halfway to straighten his jacket. Turning scared eyes back towards Mr. Darcy, she saw a sad smile upon his face.

"Miss Elizabeth, I beg of you to listen to me please. I simply wish to apologize for my slight at the assembly. I did not recognize you for who you truly are, and as such, did not want to raise your expectations of me. I immediately realized my error and have since wished to form an understanding with you. You are the most handsome woman of my acquaintance and I wish daily for your forgiveness."

Elizabeth could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her stomach was dancing and her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. A small part of her mind began to rejoice in his words as she watched his blue eyes started to shine with silver flecks and his hand rose to cup her cheek. She knew she should stop him, but she still found herself unable to move as joyful warmth began to spread through her body. Those eyes, she knew those eyes, had seen them before; they promised love and comfort. Suddenly her mouth was captured by his in a gentle kiss, and she felt as though she was about to explode with happiness.

As he began to pull away from her, she felt control beginning to return to her body. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and pull him back towards her. Rubbing his thumb along her chin he leaned down towards her ear and whispered, "Please, my Ellette, come back to me. I need you, my love."

A sudden fear overcame her as she heard his words and a loud voice reverberated in her head. "No! The time is not right. Do not give in, do not remember." She knew that voice but could not place it; such a deep voice filled with pain. Immediately the warmth and happiness she had felt left her and she watched as Mr. Darcy's eyes turned to a dark blue filled with despair.

Just as suddenly as he had appeared before her, he was gone and the room once more became focused. She watched as the footman reached up to adjust his jacket as though nothing unusual had occurred. Panicked, she turned around to see Mr. Darcy still rising from his bow with a puzzled look in his light blue eyes.

"Is everything all right, Miss Bennet?" he asked in a cold voice.

Shaking her head, she turned and all but ran from the room and the confusing man. As she rushed upstairs towards her room, she began to calm. Surely she had simply imagined the whole thing as there was no possible way Mr. Darcy could control time like that nor feel that way about her; it was not possible the man could have kissed her.

Determined to forget the incident, Elizabeth entered her room and threw the novel she had been reading upon her bed. How could she have been such a simpleton to allow such fancies into her head? Indeed she would be sure to endure her father's amusement at her expense if he ever found out about her short fancy. It was all Mr. Darcy's fault anyways; the man affected her in ways she could not understand.

Having finally calmed herself down and realizing it was nothing more than an impossible daydream, she turned towards a mirror to check her appearance before rejoining the ladies downstairs. She froze in shock at the sight of tears streaming steadily down her face.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 _"You wished to see me, Father?"_

A tall man with golden hair and bright blue eyes looked up from the parchment he was studying and rested a smiling gaze upon his son. "Ah, Eavan, you are home at last. Have you seen your mother yet?" he asked as his forehead suddenly furrowed with worry.

Laughing at his father's concern Eavan replied, "I have not. I have only just arrived and was told that you wished to see me immediately."

"While it is true that I require your attendance, you should not have come to me until you had greeted your mother."

"If that is the case, Father, then why did you tell your man to summon me upon my return?"

"I wish you would stop laughing, son. This is serious. I would have thought that you would have understood that while answering my summons, nothing could top the import of your mother wishing to see your safe return."

"Come now, Father," Eavan replied slightly sobered. "How was I to know that I needed to attend Mother first? Your man made it sound quite urgent."

"Well, yes, it is. But your Mother has been quite worried with your delay." Eavan watched amused as his father nervously shifted from foot to foot. He had never understood why his father, the most powerful fairy in all the realms, would be afraid of a less powerful being, let alone a woman. Many years ago he had sworn that he would never allow himself to bow to a woman's whims before his own as his father did. At these thoughts, the image of a pair of emerald green eyes arose in his mind quite unbidden. Not wishing to contemplate the meaning of such a vision he turned his attention back to his Father.

"I do believe, sir that she will quite understand given the circumstances. I was after all, never in any danger."

"Yes, I am well aware of your capabilities, but I do fear that you are quite underestimating your Mother's wrath should she find you have returned home and not spoken to her first. I knew you would return safe and all would be well, but your Mother...well she..."

"Well I what, Adair?" demanded a loud voice from behind the two men. With a smile Eavan turned to face his mother only to shrink at the sight of her displeasure. No matter how many seasons he had lived, his mother always had a way of making him feel as though he was still a little child being scolded for setting enlarged toads loose among mortal chambermaids. As he pondered that memory though, he found that her displeasure was lessened then due to her hidden amusement; there was no amusement behind her anger now.

"Mother," he said as he bowed low and bestowed a kiss upon her outstretched hand.

"And just where exactly have you been? And why did you not seek me out immediately upon your arrival?" she asked with a steely voice.

"I was informed by Damen that His Majesty required my attendance. I understood it to be urgent."

"More urgent than notifying your mother of your safe return?" she asked, sparks flying from her sapphire eyes.

"Anthea, my darling, Eavan was simply following orders. I did not realize Damen would be waiting for him to..."

"You did not realize? You tell that man of yours to do anything and he will follow your orders down to the last unseen detail!" She glared at her husband as he bowed his head to her greater understanding. "As for you," she said turning once more to her son and crossing her arms across her chest, "you have failed to answer my question as of yet."

Shifting nervously, Eavan glanced at his mother's determined face, trying to figure out how much he should say. Hesitatingly he said, "I was delayed a few days by a group of mortals who were out celebrating the harvests. As you are aware, Mother, I could not adequately prepare the land for winter while they were present. Their many rituals and celebrations lasted for three days. It was quite fascinating."

Sighing with relief, he watched as his mother released the tension in her body at his explanation. Rushing forward, she enveloped her son in her arms and said, "Well if that is all, then you must promise me to send a message next time. When you did not return on time, I had feared the worse! Then your father was unable to postpone the first storm of the season, and I was quite distraught with worry."

As he continued to embrace his mother, Eavan looked over her shoulder and noticed the frown and hard look in his father's eyes. Looking away guiltily, he realized that while his mother might have fallen for his half truth, his father had not. Wishing to reassure her further, and hopefully ease his father's anger he said, "There was no need to worry about me, Mother. I am not a youngling anymore, but almost fifty winters. I am capable of taking care of myself. "

Silently, his mother pulled away and bestowed a kiss upon his cheek. Turning to her husband, who quickly donned a smile, she said, "Do not keep him too long, my love. As soon as you are finished send him upstairs where I will have dinner waiting for him so that he might rest and recover from his journey. As for not worrying, I will always worry about you Eavan no matter how many winters you have seen. It is after all a mother's prerogative."

With that, the two men watched as the Queen strode from the room, although to Eavan it looked more as if she was floating away although her wings remained still. As soon as they were once again left alone, Adair turned to his son, frustration clear upon his face. "The whole truth if you please, Eavan. Those were no mere mortals you came across."

"You are correct as always, sir." Unable to hold his father's angry gaze, he looked down towards his feet. "I came across a group of druids and allowed my curiosity to get the better of me."

"For three days!"

Flinching, at the harsh tone in his father's voice, he simply replied "yes, sir."

He watched unsure of what to say when his father surprised him by wrapping him in his own embrace. Choking back his sudden emotion at his father's loving actions, he said, "I know you believe them to be dangerous, sir, but I promise you I saw nothing of the kind and remained hidden the entire time. I was not seen."

Pulling away slightly, Adair placed his hands on his son's shoulders and forced him to hold his gaze. "There was a time I would have agreed with you, son; but that time is gone. While most druids are not dangerous, there are a few who learned how to harness the powers of the sorcerers they killed. I know not how many are out there with that power, or even how it was accomplished, but you can never be too cautious. Son, promise me that you will not go near the druids again? Who knows what they would do to you if you came across one of the dangerous ones."

Shocked at his father's words, Eavan nodded solemnly. "Why have you not told anyone before?"

"I did not want to cause panic. It is for this reason we have withdrawn from amongst the mortals. The druids cannot be trusted."

"I understand, sir, and I promise you I will not disobey you again."

"Thank you!" With a large smile, Adair patted his son on the shoulder. "Now, is there anything else about your trip you would wish to share with me?"

Thoughts of the elfish woman, Iliana as he now knew her to be called, began to crowd his mind. Although she had at first angered him, he had come to admire her wit and quickness of mind as they spent time sheltered from the storm together. The need to share his confusing thoughts and feelings with his father, who had always been his closest friend and confidant, was suddenly crushed by the desire to keep the knowledge of her existence to himself. Unsure why, he turned a small smile upon his father and stated that nothing else out of the ordinary had happened.

"In that case, why don't we hurry up with our discussion. I would not wish to face your mother's displeasure at keeping you from your dinner for too long."

Sharing a laugh, the two men eagerly turned to the parchment the King had been studying earlier. Although they discussed many things, the thoughts of one man were on a pair of green eyes laughing at him while the other smiled to himself at the knowledge that something more had indeed happened. The fact that his son refused to share with him could only mean one thing. _The Prince had finally met his equal in a woman._

.

.

.

Turning sharply in his saddle, Darcy looked around the nearby fields searching for any sign of life that should not be there. Discouraged at finding nothing, he faced forward again only to notice his friends' concerned look.

"I say, Darcy, you are in quite a high dudgeon this morning. Whatever could it be that has you so distracted? I have never seen you act like this," Bingley said with a furrowed brow.

"Bingley, do you ever feel as though you are being watched?"

"Certainly; I call the feeling Caroline."

"You know that is not what I meant." Darcy replied struggling to keep a straight face.

Chuckling, Bingley turned to look at his friend only to be arrested by the lines of worry etched upon Darcy's face. "Come now, man, I have never known you to be superstitious. Truly whatever it is that you feel must be imagined."

Snorting at his friends' comment, Darcy could not help but wonder what Bingley would say if he only knew about his past. Not superstitious, indeed. How could he not be when he was always dying shortly after being reunited with his true love? However, not wishing to give Bingley cause for concern, Darcy simply replied that he must be right.

Although they continued to ride in silence, Darcy could not shake the feeling that there was someone out there watching him. Ever since the moment in the library when he had first felt it, the sensation had not disappeared. In fact, the feeling had increased drastically when he had kissed Miss Elizabeth.

Despair suddenly overcame him as he once again reflected on that moment. He knew he had made a rash decision freezing time, but he could not regret the brief moment when Iliana had once again been with him. He had seen the recognition in her changing eyes after their kiss and had rejoiced at his success. Without warning, however, the unknown presence, which had been following him for three days now, had increased and he watched as all green traces vanished from her eyes. She was once again lost to him.

Darcy wished he knew who was watching him, and why this being felt the need to prevent Miss Elizabeth from regaining her memories. Never before had they come across any interference, and suddenly someone wanted to prevent their being together.

Forcing back a harsh laugh, Darcy reconsidered his last thought. He had always known who it was that wanted to keep them apart, and why. What he could not understand is why they would want to prevent her from remembering, if that unknown presence was indeed who he feared it to be. He knew that those who wished them harm rejoiced in the bitter disappointment they faced every time they were almost joined in union; it was why they were always allowed to remember and be reunited before dying. Yet despite his fear, his determination to help her had only grown; he could not face them alone.

Before he knew it, Darcy found himself entering the small town of Meryton. Bingley had been most determined to call on the Bennet's the day before to check up on the health of Miss Bennet. Reluctantly, Darcy had convinced his friend that to do so the day after she had returned home was not proper and that he must wait a day despite his own eagerness to see Miss Elizabeth.

After she had left the library that day, Miss Elizabeth had avoided all contact with him beyond the merest of civilities. The following day when she had returned to Longbourn with her sister, he had offered her his hand to assist her into the carriage which she had openly refused. While his friend mourned the loss of the eldest Miss Bennet, Darcy had struggled to keep his own despair to himself.

As they rode through town, Bingley noticed a small gathering and began to become excited. A simple glance towards the group was enough to let Darcy know that she was there. As they approached, Darcy saw four of the Bennet sisters accompanied by three unknown gentlemen.

Upon reaching the group, Bingley quickly dismounted, followed at a slower pace by his friend. Both gentlemen bowed to which the ladies replied with curtseys.

Addressing the eldest Miss Bennet Bingley said, "How fortunate that we should meet you here. We were just on our way to Longbourn to inquire after your health."

"I thank you, sir," she replied with a small blush. "As you can see I am quite recovered." As she began to introduce Bingley to the man standing next to her dressed in a cleric's garb, Darcy turned his attention towards the rest of the group, hoping to catch a glimpse of hope from his beloved. However, before he could glance at her, his attention was captured by the other two gentlemen in the group. One was a Mr. Denny to whom he had been introduced to at a dinner with officers the previous week. The other was none other than his former childhood friend; George Wickham.

Anger overcame him as Wickham met his eyes. He was pleased to see that at least the man had the gall to pale in his presence, yet his pleasure did not last long. Wickham quickly composed himself and touched his hat in greeting. Fury soon overcame his anger as Darcy was forced, per the proper decorum he was beginning to despise more and more, to return the gesture. As he did so though, he did not fail to notice that while everyone else's attention was focused on Miss Bennet and Bingley, Miss Elizabeth had not missed the hostile interaction.

Fury turned to concern as Darcy contemplated what Wickham's presence in the area could mean for his hopes with Miss Elizabeth. If he showed even the slightest regard for her, the man would not hesitate to do all in his power to poison her mind against him; as if he hadn't already done that by himself, he thought. However, he also knew her well enough to know that she would not let her observation go unknown. Her curiosity would overwhelm her until she asked one of the gentlemen why they disliked each other so. Regretfully he admitted that she would not turn to him and would instead approach Wickham. What lies would he then tell her?

Darcy knew that he had to warn her, protect her, and that to do so he needed to talk privately to her. Groaning to himself, he knew there was only one way to guarantee her cooperation in doing so as her dislike for him would prevent her willingness to converse. Once again, he froze time.

.

.

.

Needing a reprieve from the attentions of her odious cousin Mr. Collins, Elizabeth had been enjoying the company of Mr. Denny and his charming friend Mr. Wickham when she suddenly felt her heart skip a beat. Looking up she noticed two gentlemen on horseback riding their way. She did not need to see their faces to know that one of them was Mr. Darcy.

Despite her best efforts, she had not been able to forget her short hallucination in the library at Netherfield. Ever since that moment, he had been a constant presence in her thoughts. At night she found herself dreaming of many men, all with his eyes, whispering words of love to her. Despite the fact that the only similar feature each man had was the eyes, she could not help but feel that they were all related somehow, and that she knew each one. The effect they had on her was the same as what she felt whenever she thought of Mr. Darcy.

She had been so relieved to leave Netherfield two days ago, that she refused to acknowledge the hurt and emptiness inside her heart; a hurt that was only relieved by his presence among her company now.

Not wanting to meet his eyes, as she was sure they would undo her resolve to hate him, she watched in utter fascination as Mr. Wickham turned white upon recognizing Mr. Darcy. Unable to keep her curiosity at bay, she turned her gaze towards Mr. Darcy only to see his face red in anger and his eyes devoid of their normal blue. Shocked she watched the uncomfortable interaction between the two, wondering what history they could possibly have together. Although she told herself that Mr. Darcy, being the proud and arrogant man that he was, would be the one at fault, her heart would not agree.

Hoping that neither one had noticed her observations, she was disappointed to see Mr. Darcy glancing at her with resignation in his eyes. Suddenly she felt the world around her stop as her heart beat faster. She knew what was coming, and closing her eyes began to pray that she was having yet another hallucination.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

Opening her eyes, she looked into his own filled with concern gazing at her. A quick glance at the others confirmed her suspicions; he had somehow managed to freeze time yet again. Scared, she began to shake her head as tears rolled down her face.

"Please, Miss Elizabeth, do not cry I beg of you!" Mr. Darcy pleaded quietly as he reached up with a handkerchief to wipe her eyes. "What bothers you so?"

Shocked at his gentleness, she began to speak, surprised at being able to do so this time. "Why? Why do you torture me with these hallucinations? I care nothing for you, yet you have somehow managed to bewitch me. This cannot be possible, yet this is the third time it has happened."

Bestowing a sad smile upon her he said, "Indeed, I know not how or why you have such dreams, but I beg of you to listen to me any way. For whether any of this is real or not, what I have to say is true."

Nodding reluctantly, she began to feel the same fear that came upon her in the library.

"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted. Although he is fortunate to be blessed with a happy disposition, he leaves behind him debts of many kind. You and your sisters are not safe from him. Please, despite what you may think of me, I beg of you to believe me and to not allow that man to gain favor with your family."

"I will consider what you have said, Mr. Darcy, and I thank you for your concern."

Bowing low, he turned away from her. Closing her eyes against the sudden emotion she felt, she failed to notice the world return to normal.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you alright?"

Startled she looked up expecting to see Mr. Darcy addressing her, only to see the concerned eyes of Mr. Wickham. Looking around, she noticed Mr. Bingley and his friend riding away. Confused as to what exactly had just passed, she heard a deep voice whisper in her ear, "The mind loves to play tricks upon the confused of heart. Pay no mind to what you believe to have just happened. Now I believe this gentleman is waiting on your answer."

Turning a gentle smile towards Mr. Wickham, Elizabeth forced her confusing emotions aside and replied, "Yes, I thank you, sir. I believe I have simply overdone myself this morning."

"In that case, Miss Elizabeth, may I have the pleasure of escorting you to your Aunt's house with your sisters."

"I would be honored, thank you," she said as she took his proffered arm. As they followed her sisters down the road, she turned to see Mr. Darcy watching her with a slight frown upon his face.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Darcy turned from his perch atop the garden wall to check to make sure his horse still remained hidden in the trees. It would not do for a passerby to find a saddled horse without a rider nearby. Nevertheless, he was hesitant to leave his post in case he should miss her.

Desperate to escape from Miss Bingley's attentions that morning, Darcy had decided to ride into Meryton to post a letter to his sister, Georgiana. Upon arrival in town, he passed a group of officers who were talking of a supper party they had attended the evening before. Upon hearing Wickham's name mentioned his attention was immediately drawn to the conversation. Dismounting his horse and slowly walking up to a nearby store window so as to appear as though perusing the display, he placed himself where, with very little effort, he could hear what the officers had to say.

It was apparent from the tone of their voices that Wickham had already impressed himself upon his fellow officers in a favorable light. They had much to say in regards to his charm and easy manners, not to mention his eagerness at the card tables. Scoffing at the men, Darcy began to walk away when he heard one of the men complain about the lack of attention he had received from the youngest Miss Bennet's ever since Wickham's arrival. Upon hearing the Bennet's name, he had stopped and stepped closer to the group so as not to miss anything. It was then that he discovered that Wickham had spent the majority of the evening in company with Miss Elizabeth much to her younger sisters' disappointment.

Panic immediately overtook him as he contemplated what Wickham might have said to Miss Elizabeth. Knowing that if his acquaintance with the rogue had come up in conversation between the two Wickham was sure to have slandered his good name. Darcy immediately mounted his horse and made his way towards Longbourn, his letter all but forgotten.

As he approached Longbourn, Darcy slowed his horse and began to think rationally. He knew that he would not be welcomed at the house having only met Mr. Bennet briefly and having not left a favorable impression upon the ladies. While it was true that paying them a visit would help improve his standing with the family, and in consequence with her, he was in need of information she would not share knowing him to be present. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he instead began to ride towards a copse of trees he spotted near the back garden wall.

Dismounting, he began to pace while his horse meandered over to a small patch of grass. He was in need of a private audience with Miss Elizabeth, yet knew that his request would not be granted. The thought that he could freeze time fleetingly crossed his mind, yet he dismissed that thought quickly. She had been so distressed the last time he had done so, that he had been more than willing to help convince her it was no more than a figment of her imagination.

Wishing he could come up with another way to find out what Wickham had said without her knowing of his presence, he was pleased to notice an orange tabby cat lounging in the November sun. Recalling her love for walks in the garden while she stayed at Netherfield, Darcy hoped she kept up the habit while at home. Grinning, he whispered a few words in the ancient language to his horse ordering the animal to stay before walking quietly towards the cat.

Upon his approach, the cat opened his yellow-green eyes and turned a questioning gaze upon him. Reaching a hand up, Darcy was gratified to discover the cat was willing to accept his attentions. Gently, he sent a tendril of magic towards the cat in order to gauge its reaction. Unlike most other creatures, Darcy knew that cats tended to be weary of those who wielded magic and was unwilling to force himself upon the creature without permission. Thankfully, the cat stretched his neck out and upon sniffing the air locked gazes with him and mewed in acceptance. Closing his eyes, Darcy reached out with his consciousness until he touched the cats mind. Slowly, so as not to startle the cat, he began to let his body dissolve as he took over the cat's body.

He could not remember the last time he had merged bodies with a cat, so he reveled in the experience. The agility, intelligence and strong senses of the cat blended well with his own natural abilities, allowing him to see and hear over quite the distance. Fighting the urge to run through the garden, Darcy stretched the cats, now his, long back and settled in to watch the house.

After an hour's watch, restlessness and anxiety began to overwhelm his senses. He knew he could not sit out there all day, yet he had felt the beginnings of the first winter storm building that morning. He knew that the next several days would bring rain, thus an end to any hope to see her before the ball his friend wished to hold next week. He could not wait that long.

As if on cue, it was then that he saw a side door to the house open and two young ladies step out, faces turned away from him, wrapping their shawls tighter around their shoulders. Eagerly, he jumped down from the wall and ran closer to the pair. It was with excitement that he discovered the ladies to be none other than Miss Elizabeth and her elder sister. Pausing, he watched as the sisters walked away from the house towards a bench hidden amongst several bushes. Once they had seated themselves, he gingerly walked towards them and hid himself in a shrubbery.

Although it had only been two days since he had last seen his beloved, it had felt much longer to him as he basked in her beauty. So absorbed in watching her, he failed to notice her uneasiness as she searched the gardens for something out of place.

"Lizzy, is everything okay?"

Shocked out of his own observation, he saw Miss Elizabeth start before turning to her sister to reply.

"Of course Jane; I am sorry for not attending you."

"Nonsense, Lizzy, I know you too well to believe you. What is troubling you?"

Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth's shoulders slumped in resignation. "Oh, Jane! You would not believe me. You would think me quite unreasonable."

"You know that I would never think such of you, dearest," Miss Bennet replied as she grabbed Miss Elizabeth's hands in her own. "You have not been yourself for several weeks now, and I find myself quite concerned. I have seen you try to hide it from all, but please, Lizzy, will you not share with me?"

"I do not know what to say. Ever since the last assembly in Meryton, nothing seems to make sense to me. I have dreams that feel more like memories, and unwanted feelings I cannot explain. And just now, when we left the house, I felt as though...someone...was watching...me."

Although she did not say anything, Darcy did not fail to notice her hesitation, as though she was about to name him specifically. He knew exactly what she was feeling, as he felt it every time she was in near proximity; it was as though the air around him changed whenever she was near. Without warning, a pair of feminine hands reached into the bush and wrapped around his middle. Although his feline body naturally tensed up, Darcy struggled not to twist out of Miss Bennet's grasp. Suddenly he found himself plopped onto Miss Elizabeth's warm lap.

"I believe I have found the culprit Lizzy. We were indeed being watched; it is just Mr. Taylor's cat Cyrus."

Darcy chanced a look up into her eyes and was unsurprised to find Miss Elizabeth regarding him with a cynical expression. Despite knowing that it would be best for him to leave, he gave into temptation nudging her hand with his nose and curling up with a soft purr in her lap. "It seems as though you were right, Jane," she said hesitatingly.

"Lizzy, I did not intend to insult your feelings."

"No, no! You did not. I know you would not so easily dismiss my concerns, yet I cannot help but feel as though there is more than just this cat watching us. Besides, I thought Cyrus had yellow-green eyes, yet this cat seems to have blue ones. Blue just like...oh never mind."

"Like Mr. Darcy's?" Miss Bennet asked surprising both Darcy and Miss Elizabeth who both looked up to her. Chuckling at her sister's reaction, she continued. "Come now, Lizzy, do not think me ignorant. I am fully aware that the turmoil you have been feeling started upon hearing his insult at the assembly."

Flinching at the mention of his slight, Darcy looked up again at Miss Elizabeth only to see a pained expression cross her beautiful face. Sitting up, he began to nuzzle against her arm in consolation for his words, wishing that he could actually wrap her up in his arms instead. Content, he allowed himself to relax when she reached up and began to stroke his fur, a small smile on her face.

"Indeed, I should have known that you would see through my facade. I want to hate the man, yet I find I cannot stop myself from thinking of him. He is nothing to me, so why do I feel as though his opinion of me is of such consequence?"

"But what exactly do you have to accuse him of? Despite his poor choice of words at the assembly, you have told me that he has since twice asked you to dance; an honor he has not shared with anyone besides Mr. Bingley's sisters. He is also the only man besides our father and Uncle Gardiner who I have seen to have engaged you in intellectual debates."

"While what you say may be true, his intentions are not what you would wish them to be. The first time he asked me to dance was when Sir William practically forced me upon the gentleman. He had no option other than to ask me to dance. If you had seen the look in his eyes at Sir William's words, you would not think him so generous."

Confused, Darcy thought back to that night. Though it was true he had not been happy with Sir William, it had nothing to do with her. He was just as thrilled at the prospect of dancing with her as he had been angry at the man's presumption that he did not care for the amusement of dancing.

"And the second time?" Miss Bennet prompted.

"He asked me to dance a reel! His intention to ridicule my tastes was obvious as was his desire to humiliate myself in front of Mr. Bingley's sisters who despite what you may say are vicious creatures."

"Lizzy! That is unkind." Miss Bennet scolded her younger sister. "I am fully aware of your opinions regarding Caroline and Louisa, yet I cannot help but disagree with you. I know we are not of the same standing in society as they are, yet they have been nothing but kind and considerate to us both."

Darcy struggled to contain a hiss upon hearing Miss Bennet's solicitous remarks regarding the Bingley sisters, only to be distracted by Miss Elizabeth's barely contained amusement. Realization that this must not be the first conversation the two had had regarding the Netherfield ladies, he settled back down into his beloved's lap, enjoying the feel of her soft fingers running through his fur.

"Forgive me, Jane. You are right, of course."

"Well then, when you have finished laughing at me you will continue to explain why I am wrong in regards to Mr. Darcy."

With those words, Miss Elizabeth immediately sobered. "Jane, for reasons I cannot fathom, I wish you were right. But Mr. Darcy does not care for me. I know he only debated with me in hopes of proving me wrong and showing the other's how impertinent and insupportable my opinion truly was. You should have heard him that first evening when he criticized me for my reading choice."

"But Lizzy, I know you do not care for 'Romeo and Juliet' so I cannot understand why you would have such a strong objection to his words." Knowing that Miss Bennet's words should have surprised him, Darcy felt nothing but relief.

"He did not allow me a chance to explain. He simply reacted very strongly to my statement. You would have thought I had just announced myself to be a fallen woman."

"While I do agree with you that perhaps he could have handled the situation better, I still do not understand why you told him that it was a favorite of yours."

Now just as puzzled as Miss Bennet appeared to be, Darcy turned to look up at Miss Elizabeth only to see a faraway look in her eyes. "I do not know, Jane. I know I should not have stated an opinion I did not feel, yet I felt as though I needed to; it was as though someone else told me what to say."

Immediately, Darcy's hackles rose as a hint of laughter rang softly through the trees, audible only to his sensitive ears. How had he not noticed before the day in the library that they were being watched? He knew based off of her responses to his attempts to restore her memories that whoever was watching him was also influencing her and preventing her memories from surfacing. Anger suffused throughout his entire being at the thought that whoever it was had deliberately provoked him into responding as he had. Had that being also prevented him from recognizing her at the assembly?

"Cyrus, please! There is nothing out there!" Miss Elizabeth's voice pierced his thoughts as he suddenly became aware that his extended claws were digging into the soft flesh of her thighs. Retracting his claws, he looked up into her face mewing softly in remorse, before lying back down and curling his tail around his body. He would have to consider the unknown being later when he was alone once more.

"Are you alright, Lizzy?" Upon seeing her sister nod, Miss Bennet continued. "I must say Cyrus is certainly acting strangely today, he also seems to have taken quite the liking towards you Lizzy. Now back to Mr. Darcy. Again I ask, what have you to accuse him of?"

Curious, Darcy again looked up at Miss Elizabeth's face, and was quite disconcerted to see a mischievous smile. "Jane, do you recall me telling you about Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham's cold greeting the other day?"

"Yes...oh Lizzy please tell me you did not ask Mr. Wickham about it last evening! Indeed you promised you would not."

Darcy nervously awaited the response to her sister's enquiry. At last the moment he had hoped for had arrived, yet he could not help but feel an apprehension as to what she would say. He was not disappointed in her reply.

"There was no need for me to ask him, as he was quite willing to bring up the subject of Mr. Darcy himself. I daresay, I had not believed Mr. Darcy as bad as he truly is."

"What had Mr. Wickham to say, Lizzy?"

With disbelief, Darcy listened as Miss Elizabeth related her conversation with Wickham to her elder sister. She told of their having grown up together at Pemberley as Wickham's father was his own father's steward. She continued the tale by mentioning the elder Mr. Darcy was Wickham's godfather and had in his will bequeathed that a valuable living be given to him when it came available. Darcy huffed upon hearing her claim that Wickham had done nothing to deserve having the living denied to him and given to another. Although he knew Wickham harbored hard feelings towards him, he was shocked to discover that his own supposed actions were based off of jealousy.

Wishing he could release a harsh laugh, Darcy contented himself with a quiet hiss. He was amused to discover that Wickham thought George Darcy preferred him over his own son. Apparently he had not realized that George Darcy had supported Wickham out of respect for his father, not out of love for the child. Then again, Darcy considered, if Wickham was so capable of lying to others to whom he had just met, it should not be surprising to learn that he had learned how to lie to himself and believe it.

Upon hearing Georgiana's name, Darcy's attention was once again focused on Miss Elizabeth instead of his own musings. With a barely contained fury, he heard her voice Wickham's observations that his sister was very proud. Wickham claimed that as a child she had been most amiable, yet as she had grown, she became hardened to those beneath her.

It was then that he found himself unceremoniously thrown from Miss Elizabeth's lap as she muttered something about sharp claws. Bemused, he picked himself up from the ground and wandered back over to her lifting his front paws up to rest on her knees. Brushing him away, she ended her tale by sharing her confusion as to how Mr. Bingley could have been so deceived by him.

Not wishing to miss any part of the conversation, and already missing the comfort of her lap, Darcy began to weave in and out among her ankles. He knew that what he was doing was highly improper, but he could not resist the opportunity to be so near his dearest Iliana. Reluctantly, Miss Elizabeth took pity upon him and once again lifted him up into her lap as her sister began to express her astonishment and concern.

"I find myself unable to understand how Mr. Darcy could be so undeserving of Mr. Bingley's regard Lizzy. Yet how is such a man as Mr. Wickham to be disbelieved; he has such an amiable appearance he must be in earnest. Surely they have both been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side."

"Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say in behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear _them_ too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody."

"Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's favorite in such a manner, one, whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! No."

"I can more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on, than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks."

"It is difficult indeed," Miss Bennet replied. "It is distressing. One does not know what to think."

"I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think."

Darcy listened to Miss Elizabeth's impassioned words with heightened concern. Despite what she said, he saw the look in her eyes which bespoke of her conflicting feelings. He knew then that her heart belonged as ever to him, and that it was fighting desperately for him. Her mind, however, was quite determined to hate him, and as such, allowed whoever was watching them to convince her into believing Wickham's lies.

"Well if what Mr. Wickham says is indeed true Lizzy, then we may be certain on only one point. If Mr. Bingley has indeed been imposed on, he will have much to suffer when the affair becomes public."

At this the two young ladies fell into silence, each contemplating on all that had been said, allowing Darcy to consider what he wished to do in regards to punishing Wickham. Not wishing to further upset Georgiana, he had let Wickham escape from Ramsgate unharmed. However, now that Wickham had once again forced himself on his life, and upon his beloved Iliana, he would not hesitate to retaliate in order to protect the women he loved.

Suddenly a shrill voice sounded in the air. Startled, Darcy allowed the cat's reflexes to take control and soon found himself hiding in the shrubbery once more. Ignoring the amused chuckles from the eldest Bennet's, he watched as the youngest flounced towards them.

"Jane! Lizzy! You'll never guess, but who do you think is here?"

Sharing a small smile at their sister's excitement, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth patiently asked her who was being received at the house.

"Why is it Mr. Bingley and his sisters! Mama says to hurry and join us in the drawing room."

"Very well, Lydia," Miss Elizabeth replied with a glance towards her elder sister, "we shall be inside in a minute. Go on ahead of us and let them know we will attend them immediately."

With that, Darcy watched as Miss Lydia ran back towards the house. Looking up at the two sisters, he was pleased, yet worried to see Miss Bennet's discomposure. He knew Bingley had taken a liking to her and that she received his attentions with pleasure, yet he did not believe there to be an attachment on either side. He knew then that he would need to keep a closer eye on his friend.

"Come Jane," Miss Elizabeth said, "we must not keep Mr. Bingley waiting."

"Dearest Lizzy, do not tease me so!"

"Very well then, perhaps I shall distract you with another fact I learned about Mr. Darcy." Ears perked at the mention of his name, Darcy began to follow the ladies towards the house. "It appears that Mr. Collins' dearest Lady Catherine de Bourgh is none other than Mr. Darcy's aunt! It also appears that Mr. Darcy has been engaged to Miss de Bourgh since infancy."

Whatever it had been that Darcy was expecting to hear, it had not been that. Who was this Mr. Collins and how did he know Lady Catherine? Whoever the man was, the fact that he was somehow acquainted with his aunt could not be good news for Darcy.

His musings were interrupted by Miss Bennet's exclamations of "poor Miss Bingley" and Miss Elizabeth's laughter as they reached the door. He was suddenly stopped by the sight of Miss Elizabeth kneeling down in front of him and insisting that her sister not wait for her.

Once Miss Bennet had disappeared inside, Miss Elizabeth turned a cold gaze upon him. "I know not how Mr. Darcy has garnered your assistance Cyrus, but I beg you to tell him that I have no desire to have my life further disturbed by him."

Wishing to hide his surprise at being thus addressed, Darcy pretended nonchalance by attempting to rub up against her leg again only to be shoved rudely away.

"Do not play coy with me Cyrus. If I can imagine Mr. Darcy to have the ability to freeze time, then how could I not but imagine him to have the ability to control animals. You do not have his eyes for nothing. Tell him that I have no wish to play his games any longer. I bid you good day!" At those words, she quickly stormed into the house and shut the door firmly behind her.

After checking to make sure he was not being watched from the window, Darcy quickly ran towards the garden wall and using a nearby tree effortlessly climbed to the top. Once he had gained the top of the wall, he jumped back down to the other side and seeing no one around separated himself from the cat.

Having reformed his own body, Darcy stretched and glanced down surprised to see Cyrus watching him with a curious expression. Usually when he commandeered an animal's body, the animal wasted no time in escaping from him. Cyrus, however, seemed reluctant to leave. With a grin, Darcy knew that he had a new ally in his fight to win back his love. Bending down, he began to scratch behind the cat's ears, enjoying the sound of his contented purring.

In the ancient language used by those with magic, he began to speak to the cat. "I thank you Cyrus for your services today. I am now in need of further assistance. I need you to keep an eye on Miss Elizabeth for me. Protect her, and keep me notified of what happens here. Will you do that for me?"

Solemnly, Cyrus looked up into his eyes and mewed. "Again I thank you," Darcy said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I find there is an officer in town with whom I have a long overdue appointment with."

Jumping back up onto the wall, Cyrus watched as Darcy strode confidently towards his horse and rode off towards town.

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 **AN:** I wish to apologize for updating so late. Also, I would like to let you all know that as much as it pains me to do this, I will not be able to post again for possibly a week, although I'm hoping to be able to do so this coming Sunday. I am leaving tomorrow to go camping for the rest of the week, so was determined to stay up late (well early morning now I guess for most of you, late still here where I am) and finish this chapter. I originally had hoped to have it up this last Sunday, but with all the family in town for the weekend/holiday, things got a little more crazy than I expected. So, since I will not have access to any electronics for several days, I hope you all enjoy.

I also wish to once again thank all those who have reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. I cannot tell you what that means to me! Although I originally wanted to write this story for myself, I am glad I decided to share with you all and your support means more to me than I can possibly express. Thank you!

Until next time, Happy Reading! - Allahteeah


	11. Chapter 10

**AN:** Well everyone, I am finally back! I cannot apologize enough for keeping you all waiting for so long. Although I returned home Saturday morning, I forgot how exhausting camp is (even more so now that I returned for the first time as a leader instead of as one of the girls) and things got crazy pretty quickly. Despite my anxiousness to post (I have been really looking forward to writing and sharing this chapter), life and a lonely husband got in the way demanding I catch up after camp. If it's any consolation, my mom has been bugging me non-stop about this chapter since I got home, and she is very much aware that I had no time to do so. So, since I finally had time to write today/yesterday, I decided I needed to once again stay up late and finish this chapter. I hope the fact that it is my longest yet will appease your impatience. I also hope and pray that I will never have need to make you wait so long for a new chapter again. Much love and enjoy! -Allahteeah

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Chapter 10

Shrinking further into the shadows, Darcy watched his old friend down yet another brandy. With a small smile he took a sip from his own glass.

For two days he had waited for an opportunity to confront Wickham, only to have the scoundrel successfully evade him through his new employment. Bitterly Darcy had speculated that it was perhaps the first time in his life that Wickham had lifted a finger in honest work. Although the delay in protecting his beloved had greatly agitated him, Darcy was grateful as the time had allowed him to develop a plan that would hopefully keep the man out of his life forever.

When he first left Longbourn Thursday afternoon, Darcy had been determined to hunt Wickham down and cause bodily harm to the man for giving Miss Elizabeth more reasons to despise him after the hurt he had caused Georgiana. Upon discovering that he would be detained for several days as Colonel Forster was personally seeing to the charming lieutenants' training, he came to the realization that if he let his anger take over, he would only push Miss Elizabeth farther away from him.

It had dawned upon him that if Wickham were to come to sudden harm, Miss Elizabeth would know that he had been involved. Although she had not fully recognized him when he had possessed Cyrus' body, she was very aware of the fact that the cat had been under his power and influence. As such she would be aware that he knew about her private conversation with her sister if Wickham disappeared. For the moment, he was willing to let her delude herself into thinking of his interference in her life as nothing more than pure imagination. When the time came, however, for her memories to return and she realized the full extent of what he had done, he was hopeful that she would be forgiving. He also hoped that she would be able to tell him who was watching them, unless he discovered it for himself first.

For some unknown strange reason, Darcy and Elizabeth were being carefully watched by a powerful being. Although he was sure it was not the first time they had been thus watched, it was the first time anyone had interfered in their everyday lives.

Upon further reflection, he was indeed convinced that the same person who was watching them was also preventing the return of Iliana's memories. Having seen the beginning of recognition in her eyes after he had kissed her, he knew that she would have had to have recognized the being somehow, and trusted it, in order to let her true self fade away once more. This understanding, however, offered no comfort only more uncertainty and fear. If indeed Iliana had recognized the being as trustworthy enough not to let her memories return, then the being's presence meant that they were in greater danger this time around. Speculation, however, would get him nowhere at the present time, instead he needed to focus on his task at hand.

Even though he knew Wickham to be training, Darcy wanted to be aware of his every movement so that he could approach at the earliest moment. However, due to constant rain over the past two days, he had been unable to escape Netherfield to personally watch him. Instead he had asked Cyrus to follow Wickham around. Finally, after two days of impatient waiting, Darcy spied the cat from the drawing room window shortly after dinner.

Feigning indisposition, Darcy excused himself from the Netherfield party for the evening and retired to his room. Upon arrival, he quickly dismissed his valet for the night expressing a desire to remain undisturbed until morning. Once he was left alone, Darcy secured the lock on both his bedroom and dressing room doors, changed into a set of rough work clothes, ragged coat and farmers cap, and walked towards his window to open it

Looking out, Darcy was pleased to discover Cyrus directly beneath his open window watching him expectantly. Smiling, he reached out with his consciousness until he touched the cats welcoming mind and once again allowed himself to take over the cat's body.

Having heard Cyrus' thoughts before the merge, Darcy immediately understood Wickham to have entered a tavern with several of his fellow officers about an hour ago. Darcy was delighted with the information as it would mean that his plan would be easily implemented in such an atmosphere.

Not wishing to waste any time, Darcy quickly bounded away from Netherfield towards Meryton delighting in his freedom from inside the suffocating house. As he made his way towards town, Darcy contemplated on the anxiety he always felt whenever there was poor weather.

During an evening conversation with Miss Elizabeth while she and her sister were staying at Netherfield, the topic had arisen between herself and Bingley. Bingley had claimed that there was no more awful subject than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do. Although Bingley had not specifically mentioned poor weather, it had been implied and had in fact been to what Bingley referred the most heavily to. While at the time he had been upset with his friend for portraying him in such a poor light, Darcy had been unable to deny the statement. Darcy had never done well when forced to stay inside; a fact he owned to his true inner-self. As a fairy, Eavan was one with nature. He belonged outside where there was always fresh air to be had. As a gentleman, however, especially one of such consequence as him, Darcy was often cooped up inside during inclement weather; his poor attitude a testament to his restlessness and frustration.

Arriving at the tavern, Darcy quickly surveyed the building. Despite the torrential rain, there was much traffic in and out of the building; most patrons those who had been working in their fields or shops all day alongside the officers. Darcy was grateful for the crush of people as it would allow for the most witnesses, and also help to prevent his sticking out like a sore thumb. He wanted to blend in as that would serve him the most advantageously. Skirting in and out of several men as they walked towards the tavern door, Darcy made his way to a small window ledge and nimbly leapt up. Peering in through the filmy glass, he quickly spotted Wickham sitting at a large table playing cards and appearing in good spirits. With a mischievous twitch of his tail, Darcy considered that never before had lady luck shone on him as bright as it did at that moment.

Jumping down from the window ledge, Darcy made his way up the street and behind a shop several buildings away from the tavern. Looking around to make sure he would not be observed, he quickly separated himself from Cyrus. Crouching down, he scratched the cat behind the ears and told him to go home, thanking him once again for his service. When Cyrus hesitated to leave, however, Darcy merely chuckled and told him that unless he could manage to jump to a second story window without a nearby tree, he would be required to find another host to return him to his bedroom that night. "You might as well go home to Mr. Taylor, my friend, where I am certain you will find a nice fire to curl up in front of," Darcy said. With a loud purr, Cyrus rubbed his neck up and down Darcy's leg before disappearing into the darkening night.

Standing up tall, Darcy looked around once more before taking a deep breath. After two days of careful planning and impatient waiting, he was finally ready to exact his revenge on the man who had caused him nothing but misery his entire life. He was determined not to let Wickham influence his life, or the lives of those he cared about, ever again.

Closing his eyes, he passed his hands up over his face and through his dark curly hair, dislodging his cap and changing his features. Turning, he looked into an empty shop window and observed his blurred reflection. Gone was the clean shaven dimpled face he claimed as his, and in its place was a large and scruffy square jaw with a large crooked nose beneath heavy set eyes and bushy reddish-brown brows. His once curly hair now hung limp and straight in the same hue as his eyebrows. Bending down to pick up his fallen cap, he quickly placed it on his head as he adjusted the size of the rest of his appearance.

Although he was unable to physically change his form as a mortal, Darcy had discovered many centuries ago that not only could he inhabit an animal's body, he could alter how he appeared to others; a talent that had become quite handy during several of his many lifetimes. As long as no one came into physical contact with him, he would be able to pass for a much larger and burlier man than he truly was.

While he had been planning for his confrontation with Wickham, Darcy had carefully considered who he wished to impersonate as he had no desire for his name to be associated with what would occur. Not only was he concerned about Miss Elizabeth's opinion of him, but he also had Georgiana's reputation to consider. For years, he had been quietly buying up Wickham's debts and having the man followed. It had been massive blows to Darcy's confidence to have Wickham disappear just before and after the Ramsgate incident. As a result, however, of his careful watching, Darcy was aware of several families and merchants who would gladly pay to see Wickham set down. At the time he had begun to keep track of Wickham's whereabouts, he had been simply trying to protect his family name for Georgiana's sake knowing he might not always be there to protect her only for it to turn into his personal attempt to improve the lives of those who were not as blessed as he. Never had it crossed his mind that the information might one day become useful to him in disposing of Wickham from his life.

After careful consideration, he had chosen a family from Somerset whose only daughter had been compromised almost three years ago. Unfortunately she had not survived childbirth and her parents had been very distraught. In their despair, her father's business began to fail at the same rate as her mother's declining health. Wishing to avenge his sister's death and bring peace to his parents' life, her elder brother had left home to hunt Wickham down. Regretfully, the man had been thrown from his horse and had been unable to continue to pursue the scoundrel he believed to have killed his beloved sister due to permanent injuries.

Although the brother had been unable to continue his search, Wickham was unaware of the family's reduced circumstances and the brother's attempted pursuit; Darcy planned to use this to his advantage. It also helped that he had kept in contact with the family, helping them as they struggled to recover from their losses, and as such knew that Wickham would be unlikely to run into the family again. The brother also had been blessed with large rugged looks inherited from his Irish ancestors; size, whether real or not, would definitely be useful in intimidating his foe. Intimidation was his goal.

Slightly hunched over, Darcy made his way towards the tavern. Once he stepped inside, he removed his cap stuffing it into his coat pocket and shook the rain from his shoulders. With a scowl, he looked around at the assembled men, pleased at the wary looks he was receiving, until his gaze alighted on Wickham. Smirking, he watched as Wickham leaned across the table to take the current trick.

Not wishing to approach Wickham just yet, Darcy sauntered up to the bar and took a seat. Immediately the men on either side of the stool he had taken moved slightly away from him as the tavern owner approached him.

"What can I get ya, mister?"

"A brandy if you please my good man," Darcy replied with a hoarse voice attempting to disguise that as well. After the owner had brought him his drink, Darcy quickly stopped the man from walking away by pulling out a handful of coins and laying them out on the counter, keeping his hand over the pile of coins. "I would also like for my friend's glass over there to be kept full," he stated gesturing over his shoulder towards Wickham.

Shaking his head, the owner looked at him hesitantly. "I don't want no trouble."

With a sinister smile, Darcy looked up at the man. "I'm not here to cause trouble; I just wish to have a chat with an old friend of mine. I just think it would be easier to get what I want if he were to be in a better mood before discovering I am here. Besides, I would hate to interrupt him during a winning streak. After all, if I were to stop him now, I might never get back what he owes me."

"Sorry, sir, but I can't allow ya to rough up my customers. It ain't good fer business ya know."

Having expected the proprietor to be hesitant, Darcy reached into his jacket and pulled out a full bag of coins, adding it to the pile already sitting on the counter. Leaning back with his arms crossing his chest, he watched as the man looked at the pile of money sitting in front of him over towards Wickham and back again to his own face, a greedy glint in his eyes.

"Very well. But I won't have no fights in my tavern ya hear! If it comes to blows take it out inta the street."

Darcy reached for his glass and raised it in a silent toast to the man in thanks before taking a large swallow. Scowling, the owner quickly scooped up the pile of coins dropping it into his pocket. Darcy watched as the portly man walked away towards a serving girl and began whispering to her making gestures to both himself and Wickham. Certain that the man would do as he had asked Darcy stood and walked towards a dark corner table then turned his attention towards his quarry.

Already well on his way towards being in his cups, Wickham was joyfully laughing with those seated around the card tables. When the serving girl approached with a new glass, Wickham simply looked up at her with a lascivious smile and wrapping his arms around her waist pulled her towards him. When she tried to break away, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear causing her to blush becomingly. With a small smile she congratulated him on his decided luck that evening before offering him a full view down her bosom. Pleased, Wickham licked his lips as he perused the offering. Before long, his fellows called his attention back to the game and he released the serving girl reluctantly.

Disgusted, Darcy struggled not to rise from his seat and force the girl away from the cad. If he was to be successful in his plan, he needed to remain unnoticed by Wickham for as long as possible. However, not wishing to remain any longer than necessary, Darcy quickly began to work his magic in an effort to hurry the process along.

Wickham had never held his liquor well, so by keeping him well supplied with brandy, Darcy knew the man would be unable to resist and soon would be oblivious to most of his surroundings. That was the easy part of his plan, however; the rest would be a little trickier.

Carefully watching the man from his dark corner, Darcy took stock of Wickham's opponents. Most of the men were fellow officers, but there were several local shop owners who were taking turns entering the fray. After a few games, Darcy realized that Wickham was still as poor a player as ever, he had just been lucky enough to be seated at a table with players who wished to give him a false sense of security. Smiling, Darcy knew that he had indeed come upon the most brilliant plan, and that by the end of the evening, Wickham would be dealt with for good.

As Wickham continued to down the never ending glasses of brandy, he became more reckless in his playing and with his bids. Darcy noticed the secretive looks shared by the other players and knew that it was finally time to act. With a slight flick of his hand under the table, Darcy stacked the deck in Wickham's favor from across the room. Surprise caught every other player as Wickham took trick after trick.

Not wishing to cause suspicion among the players, Darcy was careful to let Wickham lose a few hands when his bids had been lower. Before long, however, the other players began to leave the table in anger at having lost all their money to a drunk. Oblivious to the feelings of the others, Wickham continued to play against those who dared to attempt to win against him, letting the giddiness of winning and the alcohol get to him.

"I say, Denny!" Wickham practically yelled as his friend pushed his chair away from the table to stand up. "We're having such a grand ol' time, ain't we? There's no need for such a sour face. Sit back down, play another round!"

"I'm done Wickham," Denny replied. "It is obvious that despite your intoxicated state I am no match for your skills at the game. Let us call it a night. We have much to accomplish on the morrow."

"Nonsense my friend! I cannot leave now when fortune has finally smiled upon me! At last I shall have what that insufferable Darcy denied me. I am determined to have what is rightfully mine!"

"You are in no state to continue so, Wickham. And though we all know Mr. Darcy to be a proud and disagreeable man, surely you can have no complaint against him. You have only just met the man!"

"HA! That is where you...where you are wrong my friend," Wickham stuttered, his head bobbing dangerously as he attempted to swallow more brandy. "I have known the pompous pig my entire life! He has denied me everything that was meant for me! A living, a comfortable life as a gentleman, and a wife with a large dowry! He has taken everything from me, but no more!" He said his voice gradually rising until at the very end he had been shouting as he slammed his drink down upon the table.

Startled at the violence of the man, Denny took a step back from Wickham before once more attempting to draw him away from the table. Shaking off his friend, Wickham stood and looked around the room, calling for more challengers. Although none of the players had left the tavern, they instead turned to others for cards or gathered around the counter for drinks. Content in knowing that all was going exactly as he had hoped, due to careful magical manipulation, Darcy quietly stood up and walked to a seat across from Wickham. Pulling out yet another pouch of coins and tossing it onto the table, Darcy looked up into Wickham's glazed eyes and stated calmly that he would play.

Squinting and rocking unsteadily upon his feet, Wickham looked Darcy up and down carefully before nodding and sitting back down.

Just as Darcy had hoped, his simple action had garnered the attention of all those in the tavern. From the moment he had entered the building, everyone had been wary of the large, quiet stranger. That he would finally leave his solitude behind to challenge Wickham to a game shocked everyone in the room. Before long, the noise in the tavern had dulled to a quiet din as everyone strained to get a view. Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy noticed the owner nervously watching the pair while obsessively polishing the same spot on a mug with his dirty rag.

"We've met before, haven't we?" Wickham asked breaking the eerie silence.

"Not officially, no," Darcy replied in a low grumble, a dangerous smile upon his face. "Although we do share several acquaintances, one of which I am quite surprised to discover you have just slandered before this entire room."

"Humph...you must be one of Darcy's pets he has sent to keep me in line," Wickham spat. "Well you can tell him that try as he might, he will never again tell me what to do and I shall not leave Meryton simply because he was here first. I shall not be kept like you."

Laughing, Darcy looked his old friend in the eye and truthfully stated, "I am not on Darcy's pay." Sitting down, he reached forward and began to play with the coin bag he had pulled out. "Although I have briefly met the man many years ago, I am here on my own free will to collect on a debt you owe me."

"How can I owe you a debt if you say we have never met?"

"All shall be revealed, but for now, I wish to play. Do you accept my challenge?" Darcy asked as he began to toss the bag of coins in his hand. Keeping a neutral facade, he watched as Wickham eyes followed the bag. Nodding, Wickham gestured for Darcy to deal first.

Once again using his magic, Darcy carefully stacked the deck in such a way as to give Wickham a false sense of security. With each trick Wickham took, his confidence grew as his unease lessened. What he failed to notice, however, was Darcy's increasing pleasure and delight; a fact that had not gone unnoticed by those surveying the game.

After the first round had been completed, Wickham glanced up at his opponent triumphantly only to be arrested by the contented smile upon his face. Chuckling at the anger quickly suffusing his face, Darcy asked in a low voice, "How do you plan on spending your winnings, Wickham?"

Confused, Wickham quirked his head as he contemplated the man seated in front of him. "I do not see how that is any business of yours."

"Oh, but surely you must know that I am here simply because you are my business."

Shuffling the deck, Wickham refused to answer and instead glared at his opponent. Leaning back in his chair, Darcy watched Wickham deal out the cards and again, using subtle movements stacked the deck completely in Wickham's favor.

As the next round continued, and Wickham continued to win more of Darcy's money, he again let his excitement grow. Upon completion of the round, he looked up at Darcy with a smirk and asked if the man wished to forfeit. Shaking his head, Darcy held out his hand for the deck and began to shuffle.

"Tell me Wickham, have you already run up debts with all the tradesmen in this town? Based on your history, I would be quite shocked if you were to answer in the negative. Perhaps you should put your winnings towards those to whom you owe money. Then again, if I know you at all, I know you will never do the honorable thing."

Darcy's words had an immediate effect upon the room. Whispers broke out among all the shopkeepers in attendance, and the few who were attending to their own conversations wandered closer to the card table anxious not to miss a thing.

Squirming under the building tension in the room, Wickham leaned forward and quietly whispered, "Who are you and what do you want from me?"

Ignoring the questions, Darcy looked up with a steely glint in his eyes. "Care for another round Wickham? Or are you afraid that your luck is finally running out?"

Scowling, Wickham threw a handful of coins onto the table in answer.

Having stacked the deck again, Darcy watched as Wickham began to grow uncomfortable with his winning streak. Darcy hoped that it would only take one last round after this before he finally broke through Wickham's defenses. Although he could continue to accuse Wickham of his misdeeds, without a confession, all would be for naught. Only then would Darcy make his final move.

Hesitantly, Wickham looked up to Darcy's smiling face as he gathered the rounds winnings to add to his pile. With a gesture from Darcy, the young serving girl came forward with a new glass of brandy for both gentlemen. Thanking her, he watched as Wickham nearly shoved the girl away from him in frustration.

"What appears to be the matter Wickham? Has the young lady lost her charm on you already? I must say I am quite astonished since you never lose interest in a young woman until after you have had her in bed." Angry words were huffed quietly from many of the gentlemen nearby while the tavern owner quickly strode forward placing a protective arm around the girls shoulder and leading her away from Wickham.

"What would you know of my interests?" Wickham sneered.

"Plenty. I remember the day I first laid eyes on you. There you were, standing in my father's store, flirting with my younger sister. Every day for a week you would stop by the store, add more items to your growing bill, and charm dear Cassandra. Then suddenly you disappeared, leaving behind you debts and a broken heart." As he finished his speech, Darcy struggled to remember that he was portraying another man, and as such could not think on his own dear Georgiana's heartbreak.

"Ah, I know who you are" Wickham said with a smile of comprehension. "I should have known by the red of your hair. You are the McClellin son. So," he sneered, "you have followed me for three years all the way here to Hertfordshire for something as simple as an unpaid debt to your father and the foolishness of a young girl? In that case here, take your money; I have no need of you."

"I do not want your money as your debt has already been paid. Mr. Darcy discovered through his man of the many debts you had incurred in our town and was kind enough to compensate us accordingly."

"Yes, yes. Good ol' Darcy always coming to my rescue. What need have I of honor when that gentleman is always so willing to step in for me?"

Seething in anger, Darcy forced himself to calm down before replying. "Your deal Wickham." Waiting until Wickham's arrogance had once again arisen with each new trick he took Darcy eagerly took advantage of his distraction to deliver his final blow. "What you have failed to realize, Wickham, is that Mr. Darcy was unable to cover all of your debts with my family, though he tried most valiantly. It is for this reason that I am here. In following you all these years, I have come across several others to whom Darcy has attempted to pay off your debts, only to fall short. Where you are filled with selfishness and conceit, that gentleman has behaved most honorably."

"He only does so out of concern for his name. He does not care about anyone outside of his family circle."

"That is where you are wrong, Wickham," Darcy fumed. "If a man like Mr. Darcy were truly that self-centered, then he would not willingly go out of his way to pay for your mistakes. I never once heard mention of that man's name until well after you had left our town. If he had never shown up, I would not have known you once had a connection to that family." Uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken as he had not wished to forward his own interests and qualities, he quickly brought the topic round to his final point. "It is for what he tried to compensate us for and failed to do so that has led me here this night. I do not want Mr. Darcy to atone for your mistakes any longer. I wish to repay my debt to him by claiming mine from you."

"You have already declined my money, so I fail to see what I can give you."

"It is about time you come to the crux of the situation. You cannot give me what I want in order to repay your debts. Instead, you will repay me by coming clean with these good folks here and living an honest life from here on out."

"What makes you think you have the power over me to do such a thing?" Wickham asked nervously as he watched those around them inching ever closer to him.

"Because I know you better than anyone else in this room Wickham; and what I know, once shared, will give you no other option."

"I am not afraid of you," Wickham stated as he took the final trick and all the coins.

Chuckling darkly Darcy reached across the table and began to take his money back from Wickham. Enraged, Wickham stood and drunkenly tried to shove his hand away while yelling. "How dare you! You lost McClellin. Take your hands off of my winnings and go home to your pathetic store and your idiotic sister."

"Cassandra is dead, Wickham. She died giving birth to your child! She wasn't alone either. Two of your brats now run motherless through our streets," Darcy stated sullenly watching as angry men began to crowd Wickham whispering of their own daughters with whom he had flirted with since his arrival.

"They are not mine. You can have no proof of it."

"Then explain to me how my sister died convinced you would return to her!"

"She was a fool, that's why! How could I love someone as silly and young as her? Oh I admit she was a beauty, but the pretty ones always are the most ignorant. You should have seen her, practically begging me to make love to her. I will admit she was a quick learner; one of the fastest I must say. What I would give to live those nights over again," Wickham stated proudly, oblivious to the fury radiating from the men around him. His only goal was to provoke his opponent into reacting.

Darcy heaved a heavy sigh. He knew that although he had finally gotten him to confess, what Wickham had said was a falsehood; based off of the McClellin's story, poor Cassandra had been forced upon. Sending a silent prayer asking for her forgiveness in the slight falsehood he had given, Darcy stood and finished collecting his coins, further enraging Wickham.

"I thank you sir for your confession. Now I can return home knowing that I have repaid my debt to Mr. Darcy in ruining you. No longer will he need to pay your debts as no one will ever extend you credit or admit you into their society ever again."

"I think not McClellin. You have failed to do more than malign my own good name and share your family's tattered reputation with all present. Now I insist that you return my winnings to me."

"I will do no such thing for you did not win."

Laughing harshly, Wickham leveled an icy glare at him before gesturing to all the confused faces around him. "I beg to disagree. All these fine men will attest to my winning."

"Indeed they will unless they figure out what I have known all evening," Darcy smirked. "You, Wickham, have never been an honest man."

Suddenly realizing what Darcy was implying, Denny and another officer quickly grabbed hold of Wickham's arms and pulled up his jacket sleeves. Several cards immediately fell out all over the table. Panic immediately set in for Wickham and he gazed at those closing in on him.

"No! I did not put those there. You set me up!" he pointed accusingly at Darcy.

"How could I have done such a thing?" Darcy asked hiding the glee he felt. "I have been watched from the moment I entered this establishment. Every person here can attest to the fact that I have not once laid a finger on you despite my great desire to do so." With those words, Darcy turned and began to walk away, the crowd silently moving aside for him. "I would suggest, Wickham you make your life easier and simply give everyone their money back willingly," he called over his shoulder.

At the door he was met by the tavern owner who tipped his head and said, "on behalf of all the town of Meryton, sir, I thank thee fer exposin' that wretched being fer who he is before anyone could suffer."

Smiling, Darcy nodded in return and said, "It was my pleasure, sir." Turning to look back, he noticed Wickham was already closed in from all sides by angry men. With a sigh, he tossed his bag of coins to the owner who barely caught it in his surprise. "For the trouble I did not want to cause you," he said with a nod towards the crowd.

Without another word, Darcy strode quickly from the tavern wishing to put as much distance between him and the place before chaos broke out. Once he had achieved a secluded destination, and seeing no one else around, Darcy quickly dropped the enchantment he had used to change his appearance, and searched the night sky for a creature to take him home. Smiling he caught a brief glimpse of the owl he had discovered his first night in Hertfordshire.

With a gentle word, Darcy called out to the animal. As soon as the owl had come close enough to see clearly, he quickly grasped hold of the creatures mind and merged with it. As he flew off towards Netherfield, Darcy thought of how much easier his life would now be without Wickham in it.

* * *

 **AN:** For someone who said she'd rarely post an AN, I feel weird posting 2 in a single chapter. However, I felt this could not be included at the beginning.

I wish to add a disclaimer to this chapter. I know nothing about card games and gambling from the 1800's. To be honest, I hardly know card games now. If it is not Solitaire, Hearts or Canasta I am totally lost! I'd gladly take Skip-Bo or Phase 10 any day; Fluxx, too! People have tried to teach me other games over the years, and I just don't get it! That being said, I found myself too frustrated and confused when I attempted to research what Darcy and Wickham might have played, not to mention my anxiousness to get this uploaded for everyone. So, if this chapter is not historically accurate enough for you, I apologize. Perhaps in the future I might attempt to once again research games played during the regency era, but for now, I am quite happy with how this chapter turned out as I truly have been impatiently waiting to share my version of Wickham's downfall with you. Until next time!


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

" _Anthea will you please stop flittering about like an angry bee_! It is most unbecoming and I daresay stressing to the rest of us."

"Well what do you expect me to do? Just look at this place! Your guests are arriving this evening, and there is still so much to be done!"

" _Our_ guests, my love."

"No no Adair, _your_ guests. I was not consulted before you invited them all here, yet I am the one who has had to do all the planning and preparations while you hide yourself away in your hovel doing business!" Anthea said, her voice growing louder as she drew closer to her husband.

"My dear, please calm yourself. You know very well that I had no choice in the matter if we wish for peace among the realms. Besides, you have overseen more than two hundred summer solstices before. I am more than confident in your abilities."

"You are quite right, my dear," she replied, an angry glint in her eyes belying her calm demeanor. "I have hosted many gatherings over the years, but you forget that I have never had to host outsiders before. Not to mention that I have had to move the celebration from our intimate grove to the meadow. It is most distressing that I have had to dispense with tradition."

Eavan watched his parents with amusement from the safety of a nearby tree as they continued to argue. Although he agreed with his mother regarding the frustration of having to invite outsiders to this sacred event, he believed his mother was being unreasonable. He knew that his father was only doing that which was necessary. He had been working with his father day and night writing up peace treaties over the past several months, as well as preparing for the diplomatic sessions that would occur in between festivities. His father had never been one to shirk his duties.

Sighing in disgust, he turned away from the meadow as his father grasped his mother's shoulders in a gentle manner to calm and comfort her. He knew what would follow would be an intimate embrace as his father would whisper words of love and admiration in her ear. As a child he had found such a display to be endearing; as he had grown older though, it only further reaffirmed his decision to never let a woman rule his life.

As he had now to come to expect, the image of his elfish friend swam before his eyes. Every time he had expressed to himself or others his desire to remain unattached throughout his life, he saw her; her emerald eyes shining with dancing gold flecks, her long auburn hair pulled back into a single plait down her back, her petit figure dancing merrily in their grove.

It had been two and a half years since he had first met Iliana, and he was convinced she had placed some sort of spell over him. Their first meeting had been quite unpleasant, both leaving the forest convinced of the other's pride and arrogance, yet after their meeting in the storm, something had changed between them.

They had met again the next spring as he came upon her helping a mother brown bear coax her cubs from their winter den.* Mesmerized, he sat hidden among a patch of wildflowers as he watched her play with the young cubs under the protective watch of the mother bear. When the family moved on, he was surprised to see her look around the meadow until her gaze rested upon the flowers. With an eyebrow raised in amusement, she called out to him in greeting. He quickly grew to match her in size, and bowed in return.

When asked how she knew it was him when it could have been any magical being, she simply laughed and replied that only the arrogant fairy prince would watch her in such a brazen manner. At first insulted that she would believe him capable of wishing to enchant a woman, especially one from another race, he quickly sobered and began to laugh when she reminded him of his disastrous attempt to brag of his prowess over the fairer sex. Before long, their conversation turned to their doings over the winter and the fortuitous event of their meeting once again.

He learned that day, that although a woman, she held many responsibilities among her people. Every spring she went out to help record the number of animals across the land, in the summer she was sent to train said animals. During the autumn she hunted those unable to last the winter in order to feed her people, and in the winter she assisted at home in caring and teaching the younglings who would one day join her and the others who traveled the land.

Amazed that a woman was capable of leaving her home forest and doing what was considered a man's work, he made the mistake of expressing his doubts of the wisdom of her having such responsibilities out loud. Without warning, he had once again suddenly found himself hanging upside down with his arms and legs spread out and secured by branches with an arrow aimed at his chest. The conversation that followed was one he could never forget.

"You are foolish if you believe your trick will work twice, especially since you have told me that I have the power to escape you."

"I am not the foolish one here; you are milord."

"I fail to see your reasoning, _Ellette_." He had stated stressing out the name he had given her and knew she despised.

"It is simple _Your Highness_ ," she had replied relishing in watching him squirm in response to his formal title. "Firstly, by finding yourself in this position, you have insulted one who is in power to help your peoples cause. I understand that the other races are less than pleased at the fairies' withdrawal from all others without explanation, the elves at the forefront as you have left us to deal with the others. I may be only a woman, but the fact that I am allowed to hold such responsibilities goes to prove my worthiness and the trust my Queen has in me. Perhaps you have forgotten that we are ruled by a woman. Secondly, if you attempt to escape, it only goes to show that you are nothing more than a coward which in and of itself is foolishness. So what is it to be milord; your pride in being a man, or your prejudice against those who have bested you?"

Reluctantly, Eavan had admitted that he had indeed been in ignorance and as such spoke hastily. What he could never admit to her, or even himself, was how much her words and accusations had wounded him. He had always bemoaned his fate, desiring a quiet life away from the spotlight. He dreaded what would happen if something were to befall his father thus forcing him to take the throne. What she had said was true, he was puffed up in his pride, although he claimed to hide away from it. In reality, unlike her, who had willingly taken on responsibilities usually given to a man, he had taken on his own duties as an escape from those who wished to impress themselves upon him in order to advance their own standing.

The rest of their time spent that meeting passed in awkward conversation after he had been released from his deciduous captors. When she begged his forgiveness for needing to leave, he had reached out to stay her by grabbing her hand. Confused at his own actions, he had looked up into her eyes and noticed a slight fear behind her hesitancy in staying. He had quickly dropped her hand as though it had burned him before stuttering an apology for his earlier words.

"I must beseech you to f...to forgive me for my earlier words. I...I was simply amazed that a woman such as yourself would have willingly taken on such tasks as you have. I have always thought women preferred to sit at home and involve themselves in domestic activities. I did allow my pride in my sex and my prejudice against other races blind me to your true potential and abilities, and I humbly ask you to forgive me."

Without looking at him, she had replied, "While it is true that I am the only woman besides our Queen who willingly ventures outside our home forest, I will not deny the hurt your words gave me, yet I cannot withhold my forgiveness. You have always spoken honestly to me, something few others have ever done, and none of them are men. Do not think me incapable of performing domestic duties as I am quite learned in the arts of women, yet I cannot sit idly by while the men are allowed to do that which I love above all else."

Hesitantly, he had taken a step towards her, and using his forefinger, lifted her chin so that her eyes met his. "Your stubbornness and determination remind me of my mother. I should have never doubted you or your desires to serve your people honorably. I have heard my mother bemoan her fate as a woman before, wishing she could do more, as well as seen her attempts to move the fairer sex to take on more active duties. After all, she claims that what we fairies consider a man's task, to the rest of the world would be seen as a woman's duties." Chuckling at the confused look upon her face he had continued. "It is our duty as fairies to give and protect life in the world. We grow the plants, we place the dew every morning, we create the rainbows in the sky and give color to the world; we men beautify the earth with flowers while all our women do is make clothes, raise the younglings and gossip. What my mother would not give to have more such women in the world like you."

She had openly laughed at the ironic picture he had described to her, and she teased him about having such a strong woman as his mother. Pleased that all seemed right between the two of them once again, he refused to acknowledge the increased beating of his heart. Bowing to her, he took her hand once again and lifted it to his mouth for a brief kiss in goodbye. As she turned to leave once more, she had stopped to address him one last time.

"Thrice now we have met accidentally, and yet I feel as though it is no accident. I spoke honestly when I said that few have been as open with me as you have been despite our wretched beginning, and I find myself loath to part from you not knowing when I might see you again. Would it be too much to ask, milord, if I might call you friend and arrange to meet you again when next I leave the forest?"

He had willingly agreed, with one condition; he wished to be taught how to use his magic on the trees to do more than change the colors of their leaves. When asked to clarify, he stated much to her amusement that he had no desire to ever again find himself a prisoner wrapped in branches.

And so it was that they found themselves at the change of every season meeting at what they had come to refer to as their grove; the grove where they had first set aside their differences and became friends. They both always hurried through their duties, and spent two days together before returning home. Every time they met, they would share the happenings in their lives since their last meeting as well as stories from their past. Although she never shared anything about her family, he came to learn the she was a much respected personage among the elves.

Over time, he had finally learned how to read and influence the trees under her tutelage, yet seemed unable to simply bend them to his will as she was capable of doing. In return, he had taught her how to change the colors of a flower and to direct the path that water took. He was always amazed that as a woman, she struggled with the gentle and flowing movements that were required of fairy magic. Elfish magic was very structured, never changing, and as such required harsh sharp movements; it was in every way different.

At their last meeting, she had been so frustrated at her lack of success that she had moved her hands too sharply and accidentally cut of the heads of an entire grove of flowers. Horrified at what she had done, she had knelt down among the wreckage and began to openly weep into her hands. Wishing to offer her comfort, he had knelt down behind her and pulled her hands away from her face. When she tried to pull away, he had simply gripped her hands harder and told her to trust him and close her eyes.

Quietly he had whispered in her ears, telling her to listen. "Every plant and every creature has a life, a melody, all blending together into one perfect harmony." He had explained. "Listen closely, and you can hear their song. It is through this music that we can see the world's beauty."

After several moments of quiet contemplation, she had spoken. "I can hear something, but it is so faint. Such a melancholy sound, and it is entirely my fault."

"Shush now, Ellette. The true beauty of life is that it never actually ends. It always goes on somehow. Yes, there is a sadness and despair to the sound, but if you listen closer, there is hope. Search for that hope, and bring that melody to the forefront."

"But how? I can hear it, yet I know not how to call out to it."

"Lead it, draw it out. It has its own rhythm. The plants may be the musicians, yet you are the one who leads them and determines the direction they will take. That is what we fairies do."

Slowly, he had begun to guide her hands in a gentle wave, starting out small, yet growing larger as more and more voices of hope rang out from the grove. Within moments, the sound of hope had turned into one of determination, and then one of elation.

Releasing her hands, he once more whispered in her ear to open her eyes. Amazed, she had looked out upon the grove and saw the most incredible display of wildflowers dancing in the breeze. Tears of sorrow quickly turned into tears of joy as she had begun to dance in time to the rhythm of the flowers. Eavan had watched from the outskirts in contentment, allowing himself to indulge in her own joy. Never before had he felt such a pull towards another being as he did at that time to her.

Eventually, it had been time to leave and she had bestowed a kiss upon his cheek in gratitude then fled into the distance before he had had time to kiss her hand in goodbye as had become customary.

Walking away from the meadow where they were soon to receive guests, Eavan brushed his hand along his cheek where she had kissed him. He had returned from that trip in a daze, and almost told his father about the woman who was slowly destroying his defenses against the fairer sex. Upon realizing the effect she was having upon him, he had been more determined than ever that he would never give his heart to a woman, and focused more than ever upon his work.

War had been threatened among the magical realms, as the druids were growing in population and power. Many feared that with the quick withdrawal of the fairies, they were in league with those who had stolen the sorcerers' powers. As the most powerful of all the beings, the fairies were confident in their abilities to withstand any attack on their peace, yet Adair wished to avoid confrontation. In an effort to prove his good intentions, he had extended an invitation to the leaders of all the other realms to join the fairies for their summer solstice celebrations, the most sacred of times for the fairies.

Due to all the needed preparations, Eavan has not been allowed to leave to prepare the land for summer, and had been unable to meet with Iliana. He had worried incessantly at how she would have reacted upon his never appearing at their grove, hoping that upon meeting in the autumn she would set aside any anger and disappointment to forgive him. It was possible, he had considered, that she would be well aware of the upcoming event and as such realize that he was unable to attend her due to his duties at home. However, even though he knew her to be trusted by the elfish queen, he knew nothing of her position in life, so was unaware of how much she would be privy to.

Sighing in frustration, Eavan forced his thoughts away from her, telling himself that with all the guests coming tonight, he would need to be courteous to all. He despised large crowds, and was never comfortable among his own people, let alone hundreds of those unknown to him.

Upon hearing voices intruding his solitude and not wishing to interact with anyone at the present moment, Eavan quickly flew up into the tree tops and wandered away from the home tree. For not the first time since he had met Iliana, he considered how ironic it was that the fairies lived in a large tree while it was the elves who alone could control the trees.

As he continued to fly, he decided that he might as well do something useful in order to avoid his mother's wrath. Coming upon a second meadow, he landed amongst a huge collection of colored tents. For days, the many realms had sent servants with tents, luggage, and furnishings in order that all might be prepared for the arrival of the esteemed guests. Unconsciously, Eavan found himself wandering towards the group of green tents belonging to the elves, wondering if she was to be among the arriving party.

"My lord."

Surprised, Eavan turned sharply to see his father's man Damon bowing to him. Nodding his head in acknowledgement, he indicated that the man should give him the message he was sent to give.

"The first guests have been spotted approaching the valley, sire. Their Majesties request that you return to the home tree to ready yourself for their arrival."

"Thank you, I shall be right there."

Bowing, Damon quickly flew off, leaving Eavan alone once more. With yet another large sigh, he rolled his shoulders back in dreaded anticipation of the events to come, and flew off home.

.

.

.

"His Royal Majesty, King Adair, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Anthea, and His Royal Highness, Prince Eavan. To you I introduce Her Royal Majesty, Queen Lareina of the elves."

For what felt like an insufferable amount of time, Eavan had stood silently beside his parents bowing to all the arrivals in greeting. Although he had assisted his father in extending the invitation to all the realms, he had been overwhelmed at the sheer amount of guests. Giants, dwarves, sprites, pixies, brownies, goblins, ogres, and numerous others had already arrived. Guest after guest, Eavan continued to do his duty, letting his mind wander and not truly giving the arrivals his full attention. Thus he was brought from his reverie by Damon's introduction of the elfish queen of whom he had heard so much.

Bowing deeply to her, he sincerely welcomed her and her guests to their home before realizing his mistake. Both his parents and Damon looked upon him in confusion, for it was the first time that evening that he had shown any interest in the arrivals. Not wishing to let their guests know his concern for his son's actions, Adair quickly stepped forward and bestowed a kiss upon Lareina's outstretched hand.

"Lareina my dear! It has been far too long since we have had the pleasure of your company. I cannot tell you how happy I was to hear that you had accepted our invitation to join us."

"How could I resist, Adair? I must say you have been very mysterious in your dealings with us ever since the war with the druids and your disappearance. You gave us much concern; after all, you were once our greatest allies."

"And so we still are. I hope you will forgive me, My Lady, when you have heard what we have recently discovered."

"And just how recent is that Adair?" She asked as she regarded him with a raised eyebrow, causing Eavan to start. He knew that look as it was the same one Iliana often bestowed upon him. "For I dare not hope you have kept too many secrets to yourself that might be of benefit to the rest of us." She finished.

Bowing to her, Adair replied, "indeed not. I can safely promise you Lareina that I have been the most forthcoming with you. You are the only one here whom we truly trust, and as such, I hope we can rely upon your assistance in placating the others."

"We shall see, Adair. Despite your flattering words, I can see the truth in your eyes. I know that you would not purposefully deceive us despite what some of my advisors may claim." As she finished her speech, Eavan's eyes were drawn to the man standing the closest to her as he shifted nervously. Perhaps this man was one of her advisors against the allying with the fairies. Before he could contemplate on that thought, however, Eavan noticed a young woman standing directly behind the queen. She had a dark green cloak drawn around her shoulders and fastened with a gold leaf at her neck. Her hood was also up and her gaze on the ground thus making it hard for Eavan to glimpse her face. Despite all this, he felt she looked familiar.

Noticing Eavan's gaze, the elf queen chuckled and apologized for having monopolized the greeting thus far. "You must allow me to introduce to you my companions, Adair. Many of those here with me today are members of our council who I am sure you remember, as well as their families."

As she introduced all but the man and young woman Eavan noticed to his parents, he noticed a smirk of amusement upon the young woman's face, while her older companion struggled to contain a sneer of impatience. When all the others had been introduced and dismissed, Lareina finally turned towards her two companions.

"Adair, Anthea, it is my greatest pleasure to now introduce to you my brother-in-law Varen and my niece, Lady Iliana."

Shocked, Eavan watched as the young woman stepped forward pulling down her hood and executing a perfect curtsey. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last, your majesties. I have heard much about you and have been most anxious to express our gratitude to you for your kind invitation."

Shooting a confused look at the shock and anger suffusing her sons face, Anthea stepped forward to greet the young lady properly. "It is our pleasure to have you here with us, My Lady. I hope that you and your father will feel as welcome here as your aunt."

"Indeed, Madam, I am very looking forward to our time here with much pleasure." She replied sending a knowing look towards Eavan.

As he watched her eyes laugh at his discomfort, he struggled to keep himself from expressing his anger with her. She knew who he was and how uncomfortable he was around others, yet she never once bothered to mention that she was the niece of the elfish queen. Fuming, he considered that she could at least have had some compassion on him and spared him the humiliation of acting like a blathering idiot in front of their relations. Instead, her amusement continued to grow.

With a sharp bow in her direction, he welcomed her and her father to their home then quickly dismissed himself before flying away from the group as fast as he could towards the spring where he knew he could remain undisturbed for some time. However, he could not fail to over hear his mother asking his father what he was about and his father's amused reply that he did not know. Yet despite his father's words, Eavan did not believe him.

Every time he had returned from a trip, his father asked the same question with a knowing glint in his eye; "Did anything else occur on your travels that I should be aware of?" Every time Eavan answered his father in the negative, unsure as to why he felt the need to hide his friendship with her. His father was an intelligent man, and he was sure would soon figure out his connection with _the Lady Iliana_.

Sitting down upon a rock overlooking the spring, Eavan picked up a nearby twig, and began to draw in the dirt with it as he worked to clamp down on his internal struggles. Having seen here her, in his home, he was no longer able to deny the claim she had on his heart. His anger with her was further testament of that. This knowledge, however, only served to further infuriate him. He had no wish to fall in love, let alone with an elf. He knew his duty, and if he was to marry, it would have to be to a member of his own race. Heedless of this, his desire would not be easily overcome.

Eavan was not sure how long he had sat there when he heard the rustling of the grass behind him. Standing, he turned expecting to see either his mother or his father. Instead he was surprised to find none other than Iliana standing before him with a shocked expression of her own.

He knew that he should bow, or at least offer her his seat, yet he was unable to tear his eyes from her. Gone was the long braid, loose tunic, leggings and knee high boots he had become accustomed to seeing her in. Instead she was clad in a long flowing green dress that matched her eyes. The bodice was cut low and tight to accentuate her ample bosom, while her long, loose sleeves hung off of her pale shoulders. The skirt was split in front to reveal a gold underskirt and wrapped behind her in a long train. Her auburn hair hung free in loose ringlets held back from her face by a gold band encircling her brow. He knew then that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld, let alone the most beautiful woman.

Shifting uncomfortably under his bold gaze, she quickly squared her shoulders in what he knew was an attempt to compose herself and began to speak. "I must beg your forgiveness for intruding upon, your solitude your highness. If I had known you were to be here along this path, I would have asked your father for different directions."

Knitting his brows in confusion, Eavan tore his eyes from her luscious lips to look in her eyes for the truth of her words. "My father sent you this way?"

"Indeed he did," she said with a nervous chuckle darting her eyes away from his only to be arrested by the sight of his own tight tunic which matched his eyes and accentuated his own imposing muscular physique. Glancing away with an embarrassed blush creeping up her neck she continued. "As we were the last of your guests to arrive, your parents were kind enough to escort us to our tents. He and my aunt have always been close friends and allies, and I believe the separation of our people for the past few years have been hard on them both. Upon arriving at our tents, however, I expressed a desire to walk and explore with your father's permission. He had been quite happy to point me in this direction. I am sure if he had known you were here he would have suggested another way."

"I beg to differ, _My Lady_ , I believe my father knew exactly what he was doing." Eavan said unable to contain his sneer.

"Oh!" Having heard the accusation towards her, as well as the implication regarding his father, Iliana looked down towards the ground. "That would perhaps then explain your mother's attempt at directing me elsewhere before your father shushed her and led her away. Is he...is your father aware of our past encounters, milord?"

"No, I have told him nothing, although I knew him to suspect something unusual to have been occurring during my trips away. However, after our _introduction_ back there, I am sure he is now aware of the nature of our previous acquaintance."

"I see," she said as she twisted her hands. "I..."

"If there is nothing else, _My Lady_ , I beg you would excuse me as I have other guests to attend to." He said cutting her off. As he started to walk by her though, she stepped in front of him, effectively blocking his way.

"Eavan please! I am sorry. It was wrong of me to act as I did by making fun at your expense. I had asked my aunt to save mine and my father's introductions for last; I did not mean to upset you."

Despite the fact that she had called him by his given name for the first time, he found his anger towards her only growing. "Why did you not tell me who you are? I have been nothing but open and honest with you from the very beginning. Could you not at least repay me that courtesy?" he demanded.

"Would it have made any difference?" She replied, her own anger showing in her eyes. "At the very beginning you gave me no reason to trust you. You were full of disdain towards everyone whom you considered beneath you, including me. I was nothing more than an ignorant youngling and a silly woman. If I had told you I was also of royal blood, you would have found yet another way to insult me." Seeing the defeat in his eyes, she took a step back in disgust and said, "I see. Well then, milord; forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your happiness."

As she turned to leave, he saw a tear escape her eye, and his resolve to be angry with her broke. "Iliana, wait." Surprise at hearing her name caused her look back in wonderment. Stepping in front of her so that he faced her, he reached down and took both her hands in his. "I am the one who must beg your forgiveness. You are right. I was condescending and rude to you. Despite all your efforts, we usually have at least one heated argument every time we meet, usually begun by my own selfish pride. I beg of you, please do not withdraw from me. You and you alone, are my only friend. You have shown me the errors of my way, but I am still struggling. I am trying to be a better man so that you would in turn be proud to call me your friend. I have no reason to be angry at you when it has been my own pride that has kept you from truly trusting me. You might say I have been kinder towards you in forgiveness than I have been towards myself."

"Oh Eavan, I _am_ proud to call you my friend. I have few others in my life that I truly care about, and over the past two years you have joined their numbers. I wanted to tell…in fact I was going to tell you a few weeks ago, but you never came. The first day I worried that you had been detained but by the end of the second day, when you did not show, I worried that you had no desire to see me. When I was informed that I was to accompany my aunt and be a member of her party for our time here, I knew that your finding out who I am was unavoidable. Still I was angry with you, and as such, wished to hide my hurt through amusement. When I saw the hurt on your own face, I knew then that I had made a terrible mistake."

Reaching up, he brushed the tears now falling freely down her cheeks. "I was unable to leave due to preparations for the solstice so had to assign my duties to another. If I had known you would feel abandoned, I would have sent you a message. I assumed you would have heard of the invitations to the other realms and realized I could not leave. Forgive me?"

Leaning into the hand cupping her face, Iliana looked up into his own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I believe you once told me that you do not care for my repentant attitude, and I must say I agree with you. Let us agree that we both have had our fair share of the blame and put this mess behind us."

"Very well, Ellette. I agree and now all is forgotten."

"Must you continue to call me Ellette? I much preferred hearing you call me by my given name."

Throwing his head back in laughter, he sent a silent thank you to his father for sending her his way instead of letting him wallow in anger. "Indeed, you have a beautiful given name that suits you perfectly, yet I find I much prefer calling you by a name no one else calls you. It makes our friendship that much more unique and meaningful."

"In that case, _milord_ , what do you suggest we do next?"

Looking down at her mischievous smile, Eavan had the sudden urge to kiss her with his new realization of his love for her. Yet despite his claim to her friendship, he knew he could never have her hand in marriage. They were from two separate realms, and as such it could never be. Instead of giving in to his whims, he took a step back and gave her a mocking bow. "Perhaps the kind Lady would allow me to escort her on a personal tour of the area?"

 _Joining in his laughter, she gratefully accepted his arm and allowed him to lead her away._

.

.

.

"Will there be anything else, Mr. Darcy?"

"No, no, Anderson that will be all. Do not wait up for me as I expect the ball to be quite late. I can take care of myself tonight."

"Very well, sir," his valet said. "I bid you goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight Anderson."

As soon as his valet closed the door to his dressing room, Darcy collapsed on the sofa nearby. Although he was indeed quite anxious for the evening, he had become frustrated with his valets ministrations. The man had been in his service since before his father, George Darcy, had died, and as such was aware that Darcy had been acting strangely since coming to Meryton. It had not taken long for Anderson to realize that perhaps a young lady was involved, and as such attempted to make sure Darcy looked his absolute best for the Netherfield ball.

Dressed in his best black evening jacket and breeches with a dark blue waistcoat, Darcy had to admit that he had never looked better. For once, his unruly curly hair was held in place by a concoction whose ingredients he had no desire to know. His stark white cravat had been pressed and tied to perfection while his shoes were so polished Darcy was sure they would glow in the lit ballroom.

Nervous, and not wishing to crease his clothes before dancing, he began to pace his room. It had been five days since he had last seen his beloved. He had hoped after his confrontation with Wickham to have escaped Netherfield to determine whether the Bennet's had heard the latest news from town. However, due to the continued rain, he worried that they would have received no visitors and thus no new knowledge regarding Wickham's fall. This worried Darcy to the point of distraction. Bingley had been quite concerned for his friend.

Despite the possibility that Miss Elizabeth had yet to hear the news, he was certain that it would be talked about at the ball. Such a scandalous topic never went unheard of among such a large gathering. She was sure to hear about it from someone.

Although at the time he had been hesitant to brag of his good deeds where Wickham was involved, Darcy was hopeful that word of his actions would also be spread, thus increasing his favor among the neighborhood. He was hopeful that tonight would be the night he finally could apologize to her and start her on the path to regaining her memories.

Downing a small glass of brandy to calm his nerves, Darcy checked his appearance in the mirror one last time before leaving his room.

* * *

*Although wild bears can no longer be found in Britain, research has indicated that brown bears were commonly found in the British Isles until around 1000 ad when they had been hunted to extinction in that area. Eavan and Iliana's original story takes place early to mid 6th century about 20 years after the death of King Arthur.

 **AN:** I cannot tell you all how awful I feel! Last week I told you that I had hoped never to make you wait so long for another chapter, and yet here I am, a week later, finally posting again. I had set aside Friday and Saturday to write and post, when I unexpectedly received 2 boxes of apples that needed to be used up right away. Needless to say, after finally finishing my canning yesterday I am sick of apples right now; but I do have plenty of applesauce, apple butter, and dried apples to last me awhile. That having been said, I am already working on the next chapter and, bar any disasters happening, should have it up Thursday afternoon. So again, I apologize for the wait. Thanks for your reviews, and your patience! - Allahteeah


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Darcy entered the Netherfield ballroom and was arrested by the sight. Miss Bingley had up until that very morning tried to convince her brother to cancel the ball yet Charles had been determined; he was anxiously looking forward to dancing with his angel. As a result of her brother's resolve, Miss Bingley decided to lay aside her own concerns and throw the most lavish ball the neighborhood had ever attended. Darcy was loath to admit that she had succeeded and that this was sure to be the most talked of event for many years to come. Whether the discussions were ones of pleasure remained yet to be determined.

As he walked the perimeter of the room, Darcy was repulsed at the sheer number of decorations adorning every possible surface. Yards of expensive fabric in a most atrocious color were draped between curtained windows, glass baubles hung from the chandeliers increasing the glare from the over abundance of candles lighting the room, and more vases of flowers than he cared to count were set on small tables every ten feet along the walls, the fragrances combining to create an offensive odor.

With a small smile, Darcy decided that if he were to make the most of this evening, he might as well do his part to improve the atmosphere of the room. Subtly he turned so that none could see the slight movements he made with his hands as he changed the flowers to include more roses and amaryllis and less chrysanthemums, orchids and hyacinths. The difference in the room was immediately apparent as the fragrances were far less conflicting and overpowering. Taking a deep breath, Darcy turned back to the room to see the confused yet pleased faces of the servants noticing the flowers as they performed last minute duties.

Continuing his circuit of the room, Darcy drew near the musicians. Miss Bingley had claimed that the country would have no suitable musicians for _her_ ball so instead had hired a small orchestra from London, accompanied by two dozen extra servants. Bingley had originally balked at the extra expense claiming that there were more than enough suitable servants they could hire from Meryton. His sisters, however, had joined forces and convinced him that if he truly wanted to impress his neighbors, then he needed to host a ball that would be acceptable among the finest of the _ton_. Darcy had struggled not to interfere, yet he highly doubted that any extravagance was needed to impress the neighborhood. In fact, he was certain that those from the first circles of the _ton_ would find Miss Bingley's tastes overdone and ostentatious; although perhaps his Aunt Catherine would be pleased.

Before long, guests began arriving and Darcy, not wishing to offend his hosts and wanting to make a good impression on Miss Elizabeth, greeted those he knew and sought introductions to those he did not. Many appeared confused at his changed manner, yet received his attentions with great warmth and pleasure.

When the officers of the militia regiment arrived, Darcy was surprised to see Colonel Forster head directly towards him after going through the reception line. Excusing himself from the couple he had been talking to, he bowed to the Col and, seeing that the man was hesitant to speak where others might hear, motioned towards a small alcove out of the way.

"Good evening, Colonel Forster. Is there something I may assist you with?" Darcy asked.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy. I would not wish to inconvenience you here tonight, yet I find myself in need of your assistance," the Colonel replied as he wrung his hands together nervously.

Knowing where the conversation was leading, Darcy nodded with a concerned look upon his face in an attempt to appear as though he was unaware of any circumstances needing his involvement.

"I fear, sir, that a problem has arisen with one of my officers, and I understand you to have a previous acquaintance with the man."

"Would you perhaps be referring to a Mr. George Wickham?"

"You know of his residence in the area, Mr. Darcy?" the Colonel asked with brows raised in suspicion. "I was told that the two of you had not met since his arrival."

"I fear your information is faulty, Colonel Forster. I had the...er...pleasure of coming across Mr. Wickham last Tuesday when I accompanied my friend into town. Although no words were exchanged between the two of us, he had acknowledged me and I was obligated to do the same. At the time he was in company with Mr. Denny and the Misses Bennet, although I believe only Miss Elizabeth was privy to our...awkward greeting."

"And you have not seen Mr. Wickham since, sir?"

"Indeed I have not," Darcy replied letting a trace of haughtiness enter into his voice. He had no desire to let his presence in the tavern become known to anyone. "May I ask to what these questions portend, sir?"

Colonel Forster looked up at the taller man and offered a small smile. "Are you aware, Mr. Darcy, that Mr. Wickham has had a falling out among his fellow officers and was involved in a drunken rout with several of the town's shopkeepers?" Upon hearing Darcy reply in the negative the Colonel heaved a sigh of relief and continued. "I am afraid that another acquaintance of Mr. Wickham's had arrived in the local tavern last Thursday evening and shared some rather unsavory information regarding Mr. Wickham's past. I have not been able to find the man as he left town immediately and no one knows where he calls home. Since I understand you to have a personal history with Mr. Wickham, I was hoping you would be willing to meet me tomorrow morning to either confirm or deny the accusations made against my officer."

"I would be pleased to be of assistance in any way I can Colonel."

Bowing low Colonel Forster thanked him. "Will eleven tomorrow be acceptable to you sir?"

Nodding in agreement, the two agreed to meet the following morning and bowing to each other left the alcove to head in separate directions. Pleased, Darcy had to force down a smug smile in order to keep up his appearance of innocence. Looking around he spied several of the officers already conversing in low whispers to several of the local populace. Before the evening was over, he was sure the entire neighborhood would be aware of Wickham's misdeeds.

At that moment, Darcy felt his stomach leap, and turned to observe the newest arrivals. There stood Miss Elizabeth looking out among the crowd with a sense of wonderment and excitement in her eyes. Mesmerized, Darcy stood there and watched as she greeted her hosts and moved further into the room. As she continued to scan the room, he realized she was looking for someone and felt a pang of disappointment that he was not the object of her desire.

Wishing nothing more than to approach her and request her hand for the first two dances, Darcy forced himself to look away and began conversing with Mr. Long who stood nearby. He needed for her to hear the truth about Wickham before he could attempt any conversation with her. Until then, she was likely to brush off any attempt at conversation from him as she believed the lies told regarding him.

Unable to completely keep his attention from his beloved, he was disappointed to see her bestow a wide smile upon Mr. Denny and several other officers who had approached her and her younger sisters. While Mr. Long turned towards his wife to make a comment, Darcy tilted his head so that he could focus on the distant conversation surrounding Miss Elizabeth.

"Mr. Denny," simpered the youngest Bennet, "did not your friend Mr. Wickham attend with you this evening?"

Satisfied, Darcy watched as Mr. Denny shared a scornful look with the other officers, a look Miss Elizabeth had noted as well. "I am afraid, Miss Lydia that Mr. Wickham was obliged to go to town on business yesterday and has not yet returned."

With a brow raised in amusement Miss Elizabeth said, "I do not imagine his business would have called him away just now, if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman here."

Heated murmuring from the gathered officers in reply to her comment surprised the Bennet sisters and Miss Elizabeth's face immediately fell as she quickly took a step back from the men, a hand over her chest in fear.

"Indeed you could not be more wrong, Miss Elizabeth." Denny replied with a menacing look in his eyes. "It was discovered this last week that _my friend_ is not the gentleman he claimed to be and is not fit for polite society. As such, the good Colonel sent Mr. Wickham to town so as to have a proper excuse for his absence tonight. Now if you will excuse me, I believe I have yet to greet Mr. Darcy. Ladies."

With a bow in reply to the ladies' curtsies, Denny quickly walked away from the sisters towards Darcy with his fellow officers in his wake. Appalled and confused at the conversation she had just had, Miss Elizabeth ignored the angry mutterings of her youngest sisters who claimed she had chased away their favorites. Whines of "who will dance with us now" had no effect on her as she immediately left to join her friend Miss Lucas and Darcy was forced to turn his attention towards the approaching officers.

Purposefully crossing through the middle of the ballroom to gather as much attention as possible, Mr. Denny came to an abrupt halt in front of Darcy, snapped his feet together and delivered a crisp bow as if in salute. Taken back by the open display, Darcy watched wide eyed as the other officers delivered the same greeting before he was able to bow in acknowledgement. With a wide smile, Denny stepped forward with his hand outstretched. Taking the proffered hand in a firm handshake, Darcy eyed the officers with great curiosity.

"To what do I owe this honor, gentlemen?"

"I am afraid that we...that I have done you a great disservice Mr. Darcy," Denny replied loudly still holding Darcy's hand in a firm grip. "I listened with glee to the stories of the proud and haughty rich man and started many falsehoods of my own. I then allowed myself to be deceived by a man whom I considered to be a friend. I am ashamed to admit that at first I was willing to believe his lies and help spread vicious slanders against your name even though I believed you to have been known only by name to the man in question. I have since learned that you are the most honorable man of my acquaintance and that what we saw as your disdain was merely your discomfort amongst strangers. I humbly beg your forgiveness although I know I do not deserve it."

By the end of the speech, the ballroom had fallen silent as a fission of subdued energy erupted among the occupants. Uncomfortable with the attention, Darcy looked into Denny's eyes and immediately knew what the gentleman was hoping for. He was giving Darcy the chance he knew he needed to right his wrongs. Here was his chance to improve Miss Elizabeth's opinion of him. With a sincere smile of gratitude, he swallowed the sudden emotion in his throat and began to reply.

"I thank you, Mr. Denny, although I admit I am not fully deserving of your praise. I have made my fair share of missteps and through my mistaken pride and reserve I know I have not endeared myself to the good people of this neighborhood. I hope you can be as forgiving towards me as I wish to be towards you."

"All is forgot, sir," Denny said giving his hand one last shake before stepping aside so that the other officers could make their own apologies and offer their hand in harmony. Overwhelmed by the unexpected display of approval and acceptance from the officers, Darcy warily glanced across the room towards Miss Elizabeth. He was shocked to see her eyes narrowed in contempt as she watched the display.

Gradually the conversation in the room began again, although Darcy noticed many glances and fingers pointed his way. As the orchestra began to tune their instruments the officers began to leave in order to collect their dance partners for the first set leaving Darcy and Denny standing alone.

"I am afraid I must once again beg for your forgiveness, Darcy," Denny said in a low voice. "No, do not look at me in surprise; too many are watching us. We must appear as though all is well between us and that we are having a conversation appropriate for the ballroom." Having finished his short speech, he turned to watch the dancers lining up with a smile of amusement upon his face.

Unsure of why Denny wished for a private audience with him at such a time, he decided to emulate the man beside him. Smiling he noticed Bingley at the front of the line bestowing a large smile upon his partner, Miss Bennet. As he looked farther down the line, he noticed an uncomfortable looking Miss Elizabeth partnered with the clergyman he had seen with the Bennet's the same day he saw Wickham. As the dance started, the man immediately took a wrong step and ran into the gentleman next to him. Instead of correcting his steps and continuing, he began apologizing profusely causing Miss Elizabeth to recall him to the dance with much embarrassment. With a small chuckle at the man's misplaced confidence, he leaned towards Denny slightly to reply while continuing to watch the clumsy clergyman.

"I must admit Denny that I am quite at a loss. For what do you have to apologize for?"

"For putting you on display. I know that could not have been to your liking, yet I know not how else I could have repaid my debt to you."

Truly confused now, Darcy struggled to maintain a neutral facade. "While I understand your intent behind such an act, I cannot deny that it was beyond my comfort level nor can I regret the gratitude I feel. Yet I am unaware of any debt you owe me."

Chuckling Denny turned to face him. "How much do you know about the happenings of last Thursday evening, sir?"

"Very little, I am afraid, and until this evening nothing at all. Colonel Forster has already shared with me that Wickham had a falling out among the officers and was involved in a rout, but I know nothing beyond that. I myself was suffering from an indisposition and so retired early."

Nodding, Denny turned to greet another gentleman as he passed by with his wife and then turned to introduce the couple to Darcy. Smiling as he bowed, he once again watched Miss Elizabeth and her partner while he waited for his companion to continue. As he watched, he saw the clergyman step on Miss Elizabeth's toes and wished he could step in and save her. However, he knew she would resent any interference he gave as well as him singling her out. Finally Denny bid the couple good evening and Darcy turned in great anticipation to hear what the man had to say.

"What do you know of a man named McClellin?"

Feigning surprise, Darcy raised his eyebrows. "I am afraid I know little as I have only met him once. His family owns a small store in another county and had the unfortunate luck to service Wickham. You must understand, Denny, that Wickham is the son of my late father's steward as well as his godson. He has used my family name for years to gain favor with those whom he wishes to use. For reasons I now suspect you are aware of, I do not trust Wickham and as such have had him followed for years buying up all his debts. I would hate to see innocent hard working people ruined because of Wickham's selfishness."

"I do not doubt your honest intentions, sir. As for your relationship with Wickham, it does match his own account."

"I see. Then may I inquire as to how you became aware of McClellin's existence."

"He is the man who exposed Wickham," Denny said with a smile. "The man was quite brilliant, too. I have never seen such a large man before, yet he laid not one finger on Wickham. I am ashamed to admit I had no such forbearance, yet I have less to begrudge the man."

"Yes, I remember quite clearly the man's size. I am not afraid to admit I was intimidated by the man _and_ his younger brothers," Darcy chuckled pleased that his disguise had been pulled off so well. "I must ask; how did he turn the entire town against Wickham?"

Laughing out loud at the memory, Denny drew the attention of several people nearby. Wishing to keep up appearances, Darcy grinned widely and smacked Denny on the shoulder. Although surprised, Denny managed to shoot him a look of approval and encouragement. "The man simply challenged Wickham to cards and let him win, the entire time making side comments that began to leave seeds of doubt amongst those of us present. Eventually, McClellin managed to extract a confession from Wickham thus confirming everything he had accused him of, and then exposed him as a cheater. I had lost two weeks' worth of wages to Wickham that night, and I was relieved to discover all was not lost."

"Never underestimate an Irishman, Denny," Darcy said shaking his head in amusement. "What I cannot determine, however, is why McClellin was there, and how my name became involved in all this."

"McClellin told us that he wished to repay a debt he owed you by ruining Wickham so that you would never again need to atone for that man's sins."

"McClellin owed me nothing. Due to my father's admiration for the boy Wickham once was, he was allowed to grow up as a gentleman, yet denied that life upon reaching his majority. Although other paths were offered, Wickham turned them down as they required work he was not accustomed to. Again, I cannot allow innocent people to suffer because of my father's mistakes."

"He was not referring to the charges owed to his father's store. He was referring to his sister," Denny said suddenly sober.

"Cassandra," Darcy said much to his companion's surprise. "She was joined in death a week later by Isabella who was another young woman in the same town."

"You know their names?"

"I do indeed; every one of them. They were only two among many others. Not all were as fortunate as poor Cassandra."

"You believe her death to be a blessing?" Denny asked attempting to keep the fury from his voice.

"Compared to living a life with a child who represents the most horrifying experience of her life? Yes, I consider Cassandra to be very blessed. Despite what Wickham may say, I only know of a handful of his endless conquests that went to his bed willingly." Forcing back a shiver, he had to remind himself that his own sister was now forever safe from Wickham despite his attempt at Ramsgate. "I can never replace what Wickham took be it a young girls innocence or a beloved daughters life, yet I cannot allow these families to suffer any extra financial burdens. I will not support his offspring as I do not desire them to feel entitled, so I instead offer a small settlement upon each family to ease their minds. It is the least I can do."

"I beg to disagree, sir. You have done more than is required of you. You truly are a better man than I knew. I hope to one day be such a man. Forgive me for doubting you."

"There is nothing to forgive, Denny. As I stated earlier, I gave no one in the neighborhood any reason to trust me. I could not even lower myself to expose Wickham personally."

"I am glad you did not." Surprised, Darcy looked to see a mischievous grin upon Denny's face. "As you said, no one would have believed you. Besides, if you could have heard the vitriol Wickham was spouting about you after he was finally detained; I never knew _I_ could blush from so much embarrassment. I can only imagine how much worse it would have been had you been the one to expose him. He would have had cause for revenge. As it is, the town of Meryton and all of us officers are indebted to you, and your name is free from any scandal."

With a small laugh, Darcy once again slapped his companion on the back in an attempt to hide his discomfort. "Thank you, Denny for helping me to see this in such a prudent light. I admit I have struggled with my guilt in not exposing him sooner, yet you have shown me that I was wise in my decision to not do so."

"It is my pleasure, Darcy. I just hope we were successful."

"And what, may I ask, was your exact purpose this evening?"

Denny turned an appraising eye upon Darcy. Realizing that Darcy was truly in ignorance, he smiled. "We have not been blind to your attempts to improve your standing in the neighborhood. At first we thought it was done out of pride and conceit for your name and position in life so allowed you to fail. However, after the events of this past week, we came to realize your actions were that of a true gentleman whose sole desire was to atone for his mistakes. Since we found ourselves indirectly indebted to you, we decided to repay you by helping forward your cause. Who knows how many more weeks of wages I would have lost or been owed by Wickham. Just do not let our action be for naught. Now, if you'll excuse me, Darcy, I must claim my partner for the next set."

With another smile of gratitude, Darcy held out his hand before Denny could offer him the customary bow. "I cannot thank you enough, Denny."

"It was my pleasure," he said again with a warm smile and firm shake. "Now if I may be allowed a word of advice? Perhaps you could further your cause by actually dancing tonight."

Throwing his head back in true laughter, Darcy drew the attention of half the room. Never had he laughed so in public and many were greatly affected by it; his hosts and Miss Elizabeth most of all. "I believe, Denny I shall take your advice to heart. Perhaps I should start with the most unpleasant partner of the night so then I can truly enjoy the company of several other more amiable young ladies instead of dreading my duty."

"Ah, now would that be the condescending Miss Bingley?" Denny asked. Upon seeing Darcy's nod of confirmation, he joined the gentleman in laughter. "That is one prospect in which I can never envy you. I wish you luck, sir."

With that, Denny offered one last smile and walked away. As Darcy walked towards Miss Bingley, he could not help but notice the smiles and nods sent in his direction from several of the older gentlemen and the matrons in attendance. He could not recall the last time he had felt such ardent acceptance and admiration. For too long he had been solely focused on his love for Iliana and breaking the curse that he had forgotten how to live and care for others. The feeling of warmth that suffused his body was so pleasant, that he began to wonder why he had ever thought himself above these people and unable to mingle with them.

Determined to make a good impression on all those around him and to change his life, or lives, for the better, he fixed a pleasant smile upon his face as he increased his pace towards his hostess. As he walked, however, he did not fail to notice Miss Elizabeth hobbling from the dance floor with the clergyman trailing in her wake muttering nonstop apologies.

As he escorted Miss Bingley to the front of the line, he was grateful to see Bingley offering to keep Miss Elizabeth company despite their obvious shared anxiety over the clergyman's dancing the next set with Miss Bennet. Chuckling to himself, he stamped down his disgust at Miss Bingley's simpering smile, and determined to be both agreeably civil and polite. After dancing several dances, he would finally have the opportunity to dance with his beloved.

As the set began, he took a step forward grasping Miss Bingley's hand as lightly as possible as the steps required. With each look she bestowed upon him, he managed to keep a small smile by thinking of the moment he would finally dance with his beloved again. He was determined that tonight would be a new beginning for them.

* * *

 **AN:** *sigh* I'm beginning to think I should go back and remove the part from my first AN about rarely posting AN's...so far I've already posted more than I had originally hoped to post for the entire story. But, I did say I would only post when necessary, and so far I have. So without further ado...

This chapter is in fact less than half of the original. As I was writing, I became carried away by unplanned events, (Darcy and Denny's private conversation) that I was halfway through writing the dance scene with Darcy and Elizabeth when I realized I had more than doubled my average chapter length and wasn't even done yet! So, while at this time the Netherfield ball is only planned to cover one more chapter, it may turn out to be more; we'll see. While I finish though, I figured I'd treat you all to a quick posting tonight as a thank you for your patience with my slow posting over the last few weeks. I will have the next chapter up tomorrow, and if the ball turns into 3 chapters, hopefully I'll be able to post them both tomorrow. In the meantime, Happy Reading!

 **P.S.** To Raina (to whom I am unable to send a PM) and any others who are curious regarding my pen name:  
I have a very common first name with a very unique spelling. I have yet to meet anyone else who spells it the same as I do. As such, it is a rare occurrence for someone to properly pronounce it the first time around. The first day of school very quickly became my favorite day of the year as I usually added one or two new interpretations of my name to my ever growing list. The summer between my Junior and Senior year of high school, I was a member of an Ambassadors of Music group for my state, and one of the chaperon's on my bus our first day of camp tried to pronounce my name as Allahteeah. There were two other band students from my school with me on that trip, and the three of us fell in love with that pronunciation as it was hilarious to us and so shared it with the rest of our HS band when the next season of Marching Band started. Before band camp (yes I am one of those people and super proud of it much to my husbands frustration) was over, I was known to the underclassmen only as Allahteeah. Over time, I continued to fall more in love with the nickname, and discovered it to be a perfect online name when I didn't want to use my real name, and now a pen name. It is unique and quite special in many ways. Thanks for asking! 


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"I dare say you will find him very agreeable."

"Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all! To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil!" Miss Elizabeth stated.

Sighing, Darcy continued on his way as he struggled to appear unaffected by her words; words he would not have even heard if not for his inhuman hearing abilities. He was at a loss to understand how she was still so adamantly against him. He had all but apologized directly to her publicly, yet she had been hesitant to accept his hand for the next dance.

He had wanted to ask her for the current dance, yet upon approaching her, saw that she was in a heated discussion with her friend Miss Lucas so instead asked Miss Bennet who stood nearby conversing with Bingley. It was not hard to see why his friend had fallen for the eldest Bennet; nor why she shared such a close relationship with Miss Elizabeth. She had the sweetest disposition, and seemed incapable of uttering an unkind word.

He was surprised to discover her, after the dance, requesting information regarding Wickham. She had told him that she feared her sister was not disposed to think well of him, and was under the impression that she blamed him for the scoundrels downfall. Shocked, Darcy had asked if she knew why her sister was so determined to think ill of him, yet Miss Bennet had been unwilling to answer. With a gentle smile, Darcy had leaned in closer to them as they stepped forward in the dance, and asked if Miss Elizabeth had been so unfortunate as to have overheard his insult at the Meryton Assembly. Miss Bennet had immediately paled, and Darcy quickly reassured her that he had regretted his words immediately, and had been attempting to apologize for them ever since.

"I knew there had to be some mistake, sir," she had replied with a happy smile. "Lizzy had been greatly hurt although she tries to hide it. May I assume your arguments while we resided here during Netherfield were your attempts gone awry?"

Chuckling Darcy had bestowed a smile upon her. "Indeed. I fear I do not converse easily with those I am not well acquainted with, especially when I must admit a failing on my part. I can offer no justification for my words, nor can I remove the pain. It is my hope that I may simply ease her comfort, and prove to her that I have seen the error of my ways. I do not wish your sister to think ill of me."

As he had concluded speaking, Darcy noticed Miss Bennet eyeing him with much consideration. "I believe, Mr. Darcy, that if you continue as you have this evening, my sister may yet improve her opinion of her. She will find it will not be so easy to despise you now that the rest of the neighborhood has improved their opinion of you."

"I thank you, Miss Bennet. You have given me hope." As the dance ended, he asked permission to escort her to her sister and was cheerfully accepted. However, they were intercepted by Bingley on the way as he was most impatient to renew his attentions to her that evening. Seeing him hesitate ever so slightly, Miss Bennet offered him a small smile and told him that he should continue on without her. "I am sure my sister will be most honored to accept your hand for the next set, Mr. Darcy. If I remember correctly, her card is not yet full." Bowing gratefully and ignoring Bingley's confused expression, Darcy heeded her advice.

Miss Elizabeth, however, was not as honored as he had hoped her to be. She gave all the appearances of wanting to deny him her hand when Miss Lucas had nudged her. Disappointed that she seemed to be even more hostile towards him than normal, he turned to her friend requesting the dance following Miss Elizabeth's in an attempt to ease her mind before walking away.

When the time came for the dancing to recommence, Darcy returned to the ladies in time to overhear Miss Lucas whisper "do not be a simpleton and allow your fancy for Wickham make you appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man of ten times his consequence." It took all the effort he had to appear unconcerned while he felt as though the floor had disappeared from beneath his feet. How was it that she found herself attracted to another man? That had never happened before; there had never been any other than him. A hint of laughter drifted by and Darcy had to repress a shudder realizing that the idea had been planted in her head by another.

Although Darcy had thus far danced every set but the first, he could not fail to notice the extra attention he was now receiving as he escorted Miss Elizabeth to her place in the set. This attention only further set his resolve to right things between them as he now had proof that the entire neighborhood knew of his slight at the assembly.

Taking his own place, he allowed himself to fully absorb this moment while the other dancers continued to join them. It was obvious to him that Miss Elizabeth had taken great care with her appearance that evening. Her gown, though behind in fashion, was one of perfection on her. The cream of the fabric contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin and dark features. Her full length gloves fit her so well they appeared to be one with her soft flesh. Her neck was unadorned with the jewels many others wore that night, yet Darcy found it preferable bare. Her hair was done up in a simple yet elegant style with several curls threatening to escape her pins. At that moment he wished he could reach up and run his hand through her chestnut curls.

The sounds of the orchestra quickly brought him from his reverie and he looked up to see her cold gaze and a small frown aimed at him. With a slight blush at having been caught admiring her, he offered a hesitant smile as he bowed in time with the other gentleman. For some time they danced in silence as Miss Elizabeth seemed reluctant to converse, her cold look replaced by one of confusion, and Darcy was too pleased at finally dancing with his beloved to disturb the peace.

Eventually Miss Elizabeth grew uncomfortable with the silence and made some slight observation on the dance. With a gentle smile, he replied, yet not knowing what else to add fell once again into silence.

"It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy," she said several minutes later. "I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

"I would be happy to oblige you and will say whatever it is you wish me to say," he said with a chuckle.

"Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by i may observe tat private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent."

Not wishing for their camaraderie to end, Darcy quickly began to speak again. "Do you talk by rule then, when you are dancing?"

"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look oddd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

Feeling the weight of her accusation regarding his character, he decided to try teasing her as history had taught him that usually provided the help he needed. "Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

"Both," she replied archly, slightly confused at his cheerful attitude; "for I have always seen a great similarity in the run of our minds. We are each of an unsocial taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak , unless we expect to say something that will amae the whole room. And be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb."

"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure. How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say," he said with a disarming smile.

Having heard the compliment in his words, Miss Elizabeth stumbled over the next step, and Darcy had to quickly reach out to steady her. As he gripped her upper arm just above her glove, he felt a shock travel up his own arm and settle in his heart. It was a feeling he had become accustomed to over their many lives, yet she had no such memories at this time.

Sensing her discomfort, he looked down to see her eyes upon him in fear, hints of emerald green starting to shine through the hazel.

"Have we...we have danced together before, Mr. Darcy."

Excitement began to bubble in his chest; here was his moment. "Indeed we have Miss Elizabeth; many times in fact. There is nothing more that I love than to dance with you, my dearest Ellette," he said with a small smile and love shining brightly from his eyes.

Smiling, she looked up at him as gold began to join the green in here eyes. "I remember, sir. Your hair was much lighter then, though not as fair as your fathers."

Forgetting where he was, Darcy almost reached up to stroke her cheek as he stepped towards her in the dance when he felt a small kick to the bag of his leg. Looking around quickly to find the perpetrator, he saw Bingley passing by him with a look of rebuke and shock clear upon his face. Wondering how many others had witnessed his improper behavior, he turned back to Miss Elizabeth to find her staring behind him with confusion. Neglecting the dance, Darcy whipped around to see a cloaked figure wending their way through the crowd, unseen by any others. The feeling of power overwhelmed him, and he began to step off the floor to follow the personage responsible for meddling in his life when he felt another sharp kick.

"Darcy, pay attention man!" Bingley hissed.

Before Darcy could make a retort, he turned back towards Miss Elizabeth and his heart dropped at the sight. She was staring at him in horror and disgust, all traces of his Iliana gone from her eyes. "If you no longer desire my company, Mr. Darcy, perhaps you could return me to my friend."

Disheartened, Darcy rushed to reassure her of his desire for her to finish the dance with him. "I must humbly beg for your forgiveness Miss Bennet. I thought I saw something, and found myself quite distracted. However, I understand if you would desire to leave my presence at the moment as I have failed in my duty to properly attend you. I will forever regret this lapse in my attention, Miss Bennet." Upon seeing her nod in grudging acceptance, he once again tried to engage her in conversation. "It seems my lapse in attention had made me forget what we were talking of."

"I do not think we were speaking at all. There could not be any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

Not enjoying the turn of her countenance nor the return of her anger towards him, Darcy decided to once again tease her. "What think you of books?" said he, smiling.

"Books - Oh! No. I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings. You made that quite clear when I stayed here at Netherfield."

"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions."

"No, I cannot talk of books in a ballroom; my head is always full of something else."

"The present always occupies you in such scenes, does it?"

"Yes," she replied absentmindedly as her gaze once again wandered off into the room. Feeling as though he was once again being watched, he turned to follow her gaze, only this time he was unable to see anything out of the ordinary. Frustrated with himself for not following the being, he heaved a sigh and decided to try once again with Miss Elizabeth; he refused to give up hope on this night.

Before he could formulate what to say, she surprised him with her sudden speech. "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unnappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created?"

"I am," he said in a firm voice, concerned as to the turn of the conversation.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

Fear soon overcame his concern upon hearing her words. Memories of conversations long ago came to mind, none of which led to happy endings. Whoever the being was, had kept her from remember who she was, yet obviously allowed her a slight recollection of his worst moments with her. There were only a few people besides themselves who were aware of these past conversations, and only two of whom he believed would encourage her to use them against him. His worst suspicions had just been confirmed, and they were in true danger; unfortunately, this time the danger was not mortal.

Realizing that he had yet to give an answer and that she was waiting impatiently, he forced aside his macabre thoughts telling himself he could search out the being the following day. "I hope not," he finally said.

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first."

Impatience and irritation such as he had never felt with her soon overcame all rational thought and he hastily replied with harshness. "May I ask to what theses questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of your character," she said in an attempt to calm him down and brush off her own gravity. "I am trying to make it out."

"And what is your success?" he sneered.

"I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

At that moment, the musicians played the final chord, and Darcy had never felt so relieved to end his dancing with her. In the past it had always been a moment of great sorrow, yet now, it was one of great joy. He could not escape her fast enough. He needed to get away before he further damaged her opinion of him.

"I can readily believe that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either," he said as he escorted her from the floor to join her parents.

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity."

"I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours," he ended coldly with a small bow.

Walking away from her as fast as he could, he began to head for the doorway so that he might escape from his personal demons in order to calm himself down. As he drew near, however, he spotted Lady Lucas chatting with another woman and recalled that he had asked Miss Lucas to dance the next with him. With a sharp turn he redirected himself towards the refreshment table, and began to converse with the officers there until it was time to collect his dance partner.

When the musicians played the cue to start the dance, Darcy begrudgingly left the table and officers behind in order to escort Miss Lucas to the dance floor. Although he attempted civil conversation and a pleasing demeanor, he knew he would have to apologize to Miss Lucas afterwards as all his attempts fell. As they left the dance floor, he began to turn to ask if he could escort her to dinner when she raised a hand to stop him.

"Mr. Darcy please allow me to speak. I thank you for the very great honor of dancing with you, yet I know your heart was not in it. I have seen the way you watch my friend, and although she does not believe me, I can see how you feel for her. Give her time. My friend is a stubborn woman, she will come around.

"Miss Lucas, I would beg..."

"No, there is no need. Promise you will not give up on her and that is all the apology I need."

With a smile, Darcy took her hand and bowed over it. "You have my word, madam."

"I thank you, sir, and I will now wish you good evening as I doubt we will converse again. Although, you should replace that grimace with the smile you wore earlier this evening. Do not let her know how her words have affected you."

Admiration shone from Darcy's eyes as he watched Miss Lucas walk away to join her family as they headed towards the supper room. Smiling, he realized that although his dance with his beloved had not gone as planned, the evening was far from over, and he had many unexpected allies.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry this is so short, but I decided to go ahead and make the ball a 3 part as trying to condense everything was not working for me. Anyways, please forgive any editing errors as I did not take the time to edit before posting. I am supposed to be somewhere right now, but knew if I did not get this posted first I would not get it done today. I will go back next week and edit this chapter, but in the meantime, I hope this pleases you all haha. So here it is, and the rest sometime real soon.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Although attendance at balls had never been something with which he was comfortable, Darcy was beginning to think perhaps they were in general not so terrible compared to the evening he was currently enduring. This evening had been one full of memorable events he was sure to never forget no matter how many more lifetimes he was forced to live. He was also convinced that no event, either past or future, could even compare to the Netherfield Ball in regards to ridiculousness.

Shortly after Miss Lucas left his side, he was approached by an indignant Miss Bingley who insisted he escort her into dinner. Not wishing to offend his hostess he had offered her his arm. He hoped that his action would not go unnoticed by Miss Elizabeth and that she would see he was unaffected by her words. Guilt at his desire to inspire jealousy in his beloved was soon overcome by his annoyance with Miss Bingley. As they headed towards the supper room he was regaled with her telling of her attempt to help "poor Miss Eliza."

"How dare she brush off my concern for her!" Miss Bingley huffed. "I was simply desirous to help a friend. _I_ know of Mr. Wickham's evils against you, my dear Mr. Darcy, and now the whole neighborhood is talking of his guilt. I would have thought that hearing of his wicked ways and my testimony as to his unworthiness for her attention would have swayed her opinion. Yet her determination to think well of the gentleman only further proves how unsuitable the Bennet family is."

Darcy had struggled not to let her notice his shudder at her indication of a close relationship between them. Although she claimed to know of Wickham's faults against him, Darcy had taken great care to conceal his dealings with him from the Bingley's. After seeing Wickham was in the neighborhood, Darcy had wanted to confide in his closest friend, yet worried about Georgiana's reputation if anyone untrustworthy were to discover the truth and Bingley's sisters were as untrustworthy as they come. He had decided that he would share with them nothing more than whom Wickham's father had been and that the son was not a good man. Bingley had been immediately concerned since Wickham had been in company with his angel, yet Darcy had assured him that he had men who had been following Wickham for years, and would soon arrive in the area to keep him out of trouble. Thankfully, he had no need for his men as he was able to handle Wickham personally.

Seeing his smirk, Miss Bingley tightened her grip on his arm. "I am glad to see you agree with me, Mr. Darcy."

Chuckling, Darcy looked down at her and wanted to wipe the conceited smile from her face. "On the contrary, Miss Bingley," he said. "I find her unwillingness to believe someone wholly unconnected with the man quite commendable."

Shocked, Miss Bingley gasped in disbelief. "Surely you cannot mean what you say, sir."

"Indeed I am serious, madam. I find it refreshing to meet a young lady who is not swayed in her personal observations and opinions by idle gossip."

"Mr. Darcy! How can you say such a thing? Mr. Wickham has slandered your good name, a fact to which all the officers here have attested to, and they have openly shared his misdeeds. He is guilty yet you do not fault her for believing him to be innocent?"

Darcy contemplated her words. While it was true that he had spent a good portion of the evening wondering why Miss Elizabeth still thought well of Wickham, he could not bear listening to Miss Bingley ridicule his beloved. His concern for Miss Elizabeth greatly outweighed his desire to admit his companion in the right, no matter how he agreed with her; he must defend his beloved.

"How could I condemn her? I admire the fact that she is unwilling to listen to what is possibly hearsay," he said as he came to a realization. Hearing Miss Bingley's disgust, he quickly continued before she could reply. "While it is true that there were many present the night Wickham's misdeeds became known, only a handful of them are in attendance tonight. The majority of those there were Meryton's shopkeepers and tradesmen, and as such, their standing in life far below that of a gentlewoman. Now who is to say that the officers here have not exaggerated the story in an attempt to ease their own guilt or to express their anger with Wickham? I believe many of them had lost some money to him that night."

"Mr. Darcy, surely you do not believe what you are saying. How is it that you are defending that man after all he has done to you?"

"You are mistaken if you believe I am defending Mr. Wickham, madam. I am simply stating my reasons for believing why Miss Elizabeth still favors her opinion of that man over me. You, more than anyone besides the lady herself, are aware of the fact that I have given her no reason to trust me. I was abominably rude and insulted her before we had even been introduced and have failed to apologize directly to her." With a pang of regret, he thought of his apology in the library remembering that she believed that moment to be nothing more than a hallucination. "We are both very aware of the great injustice of my slight as I was most incorrect in the choice of my words at the assembly. She is a very fine young woman," he finished fixing a steely glare upon Miss Bingley in the hope that she would not disagree with his words.

"Indeed you are correct, Mr. Darcy." Miss Bingley replied with a forced smile that appeared more like a grimace.

"I thank you, Miss Bingley," he said with a victorious smile.

"It is for this reason that I remain confused, sir. She still thinks ill of you and well of Mr. Wickham, yet you seem to approve."

"Again I marvel at how much I disagree with you. I do not approve of her opinions, but I do understand them. Would you be willing to listen to others vilify a man who had flattered you in favor of a man who insulted you? The truth is a moot point to her. She is willing to believe there has been some gross misunderstanding and hopes that what is said regarding Mr. Wickham is false. It is her loyalty to those she considers her friends that I admire and applaud her for."

Pulling out a chair, he indicated Miss Bingley should sit while ignoring the anger emanating from her. With a short bow, he informed her that he would be happy to secure her a plate before joining her. As he walked away, he noticed Mr. Bennet nearby contemplating him with great curiosity. With a smile and a nod in the gentleman's direction, Darcy was pleased to see the astonishment cross the older man's face. With a nod in return, Mr. Bennet turned to his oblivious wife nearby to escort her to her own seat. Chuckling, Darcy continued on hoping that Mr. Bennet had overheard his conversation with Miss Bingley. Extra allies in his fight for Miss Elizabeth's heart would be most appreciated.

As he worked to prepare a plate, Darcy suddenly scrunched up his nose as an unpleasant odor assaulted his senses. He was shocked to turn and discover the clergyman who had arrived with the Bennet's bowing to him in a most flourishing manner. With a quick movement, Darcy barely managed to move the arm holding Miss Bingley's plate out of the way as the clergyman quickly rose from his bow almost knocking the plate from Darcy's hand. Astonished, Darcy watched as the clergyman began to address him.

"Mr. Darcy, sir, I humbly apologize for my oversight in not having approached you sooner. As the esteemed nephew of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, it should have been my great honor to attend to you at the beginning of this humble gathering. I can only plead to your condescension and benevolence for I have only just discovered you to be related to that great lady. It is therefore my greatest pleasure, sir, to inform you that her ladyship and her daughter were enjoying the best of health yesterday se'nnight."

Unable to hide his growing wonder and disgust at the man's impropriety, Darcy forced down his fear and concern. It was enough that he had an unknown magical being bent on keeping him apart from Iliana, but now he must deal with a man who had some connection with both Lady Catherine and the Bennet's. He knew that although she was as mortal as could be, she was indeed quite powerful and not a force to be reckoned with. Needing to know the man's exact connection with his aunt, he hesitantly asked who he had the pleasure of addressing.

"I am William Collins, sir, and I have had the great pleasure to have been so distinguished by your estimable relation as to receive the living at Hunsford."

"I must commend you then, Mr. Collins. Hunsford is indeed a most valuable gift."

"Oh! Indeed it is, sir. And her ladyship has been most affable and condescending. There is nothing to be done that she does not see fit to instruct me on personally. I find myself quite blessed. I could not ask for a kinder soul or a grander personage to bestow such an honor on me."

"I am well convinced of Lady Catherine's discernment as to be certain that she could never bestow a favor unworthily. Now I understand, Mr. Collins, that the living has only recently been given. I find myself quite surprised to discover that my aunt would have allowed you to travel so far from Kent so soon."

"Your concern does you much credit, Mr. Darcy. Indeed I am here under the strict guidance of Lady Catherine. You see, Mr. Darcy, I am cousin to Mr. Bennet and upon his death will inherit all of Longbourn. Although I do not wish ill upon the man, I had a great desire to meet the man to whom I will one day owe my fortune as he and my father were not on the best of terms. I believe it is my duty as a clergyman to heal any breach in my family sir so that I can better lead Lady Catherine's flock. In fact, it was her suggestion that I extend my olive branch so far as to offer for one of my fair cousins. Indeed, I believe her ladyship will be very pleased with my choice of bride."

If Darcy had thought he could not be further disgusted by the man in front of him, his previous speech had proven him wrong. To openly admit such a relationship with the Bennet's to a stranger was appalling to him. To further claim that he had been all but ordered to take one of the Bennet ladies to wife was beyond improper. As he watched Mr. Collins turn and ogle Miss Elizabeth, it took all of Darcy's resolve to keep himself from strangling the man on the spot.

Dread suddenly filled his chest, overwhelming his senses. Darcy had not been unaware of Mr. Collins' attentions towards his beloved, yet had not understood the meaning behind them. Although he knew Miss Elizabeth would not willingly accept anyone's hand in marriage besides his, Darcy was concerned that she might be convinced by both her mother and the personage watching them to accept the clergyman in order to protect her family. The thought of his Iliana as wife to any other man nearly made him sick with rage and despair.

Forcing a small smile upon his face, Darcy hesitantly asked Mr. Collins if he was to wish him joy. Upon hearing him reply in the negative, Darcy heaved a sigh of relief not failing to miss Mr. Collins assurance that he would be blessed with her hand in acceptance on the morrow. With a curt nod, Darcy begrudgingly wished the clergyman luck in his endeavors, and quickly returned to filling Miss Bingley's plate.

Worry consumed him as he watched the clergyman try to sidle up to Miss Elizabeth as she took her place at the table with her parents. Knowing what he now knew, Darcy was unwilling to stand by and watch the ridiculous Mr. Collins' attempt to win his beloved's favor. With a smirk, he send a tendril of magic floating towards the clergyman bestowing upon the man the thought that it was necessary to pay proper respect to his hosts for the night as to do anything less would offend Lady Catherine.

Pleased, Darcy watched the relief spread across Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet's faces as Mr. Collins bowed to them and walked over to take the seat next to Miss Bingley against her protests. With a satisfied smile, Darcy presented Miss Bingley with her plate, and excused himself quickly as he saw that she was being properly attended. He was well aware of the fact that he would pay dearly for his actions later; however, nothing was of greater import to him than securing Miss Elizabeth's safety and freedom from Mr. Collins.

As he prepared his own plate, Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth's table, using his magic to prevent anyone else from taking the last seat there. Already the neighborhood had improved their opinion of him, yet he knew that the ones who would be the most influential in keeping her free from her cousin still held their doubts. He was determined by the end of the evening that her family, if not the lady herself, would think well of him. He knew he had already secured Miss Bennet's good opinion, and hopefully that of her father; yet uncertainty was not a commodity he was willing to take.

Seating himself across and one seat down from Miss Elizabeth, he bestowed a small smile upon her as she gaped at him in horror and astonishment. Looking next to him, he was pleased to witness Mr. Bennet's amusement at the exchange. Knowing that he needed to secure Mr. Bennet's approval, Darcy took the opportunity to engage the man in conversation.

Having never conversed with him before, Darcy was pleased to discover Mr. Bennet was a well read man with an acerbic wit. The gentleman was similar in demeanor to his second eldest daughter and Darcy knew immediately that she was his favorite. With a glance towards his beloved, he saw her watching the conversation between him and her father with confusion. Smiling he nodded at her to which she blushed, whether in anger or embarrassment he was unsure, before she quickly turned her attention to her mother who sat next to her and across from him.

Glancing back at her father, Darcy did not fail to notice a glimmer of delight in his eyes as well as his chuckle hidden by a cough.

"Mr. Darcy," he said in a low voice so as not to be overheard, "would I be correct in assuming that you disagree with your own remarks made at the Meryton assembly?"

"You would indeed be correct, sir."

"Very well then, may I make a suggestion before I ask a favor of you?" Seeing Darcy nod his head with brows knit in confusion, Mr. Bennet continued. "My Lizzy is a stubborn young woman, and although you have already made great strides in improving your reputation with the neighborhood, she will not be easily won over. While she may be my favorite daughter, she does not hold such distinction with her mother. She has lived her entire life in Jane and Lydia's shadows. If you wish to impress her, you must not allow her to live under any other shadows."

Quirking his head, Darcy considered the man seated beside him. "I am afraid I do not follow you sir, yet I can see by the look in your eye that this is a riddle I must solve for myself. Am I correct?"

"Yes," was the simple answer.

"Then I thank you, sir, and I can assure you most gratefully that I will carefully consider your words and heed them to the best of my abilities. Now I believe there was a favor you wished to ask of me?"

Nodding his head in approval, Mr. Bennet leaned in closer. "Indeed there is. Would it be too much trouble to ask you to visit with me tomorrow, sir? I am afraid that my daughters have all found the company of Mr. Wickham very pleasing. I have not met the man myself and am quite disturbed by what I have heard of him tonight. I understand you to know the gentleman better than anyone else in the area, and as such, would appreciate any assistance you might offer me in protecting my daughters from the man and others like him. However, I understand if you believe me to be imposing on you. I would not wish to pry into your personal affairs."

"I assure you, Mr. Bennet, it would be no imposition. I would hate to see your daughters come to harm from such a man. I am to call upon Colonel Forster tomorrow morning to discuss the same thing. Would the afternoon be convenient for you?"

"That would be most suitable, sir. I have no fixed plans on the morrow so rest assured you may call whenever you are finished with the Colonel. I thank you sir for your willingness."

At that moment, the peace was interrupted by a trill from Mrs. Bennet. "Oh yes my dear! I could not be happier for my dearest Jane. Imagine how wonderful it will be for her to be settled in as Netherfield's mistress a mere three miles from her home. And such a charming young man; rich too, to be sure. I just knew my dear Jane will do well."

Darcy watched amazed as the woman seated across from him continued to praise Bingley and express her great expectation for a marriage between him and her eldest daughter. Next to him, Mr. Bennet leaned back in his seat, sipping his wine, as he listened to his wife with a small smile playing upon his lips. Seated next to her mother, Miss Elizabeth tried valiantly to discourage her from such a topic, yet Mrs. Bennet was determined to share her good fortune with Lady Lucas. Unsure what to do, Darcy shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he attempted to ignore the conversation.

At one point, Mrs. Bennet leaned in towards her friend and in a loud voice claimed that Jane's advantageous marriage would be the key to throwing her other daughters in the path of other rich men. By this point, Mr. Bennet was chuckling openly, while his daughter, red with anger and embarrassment, whispered to her mother that perhaps she should not discuss such topic in front of Mr. Darcy, not realizing that he could hear her whispered entreaties.

"What is Mr. Darcy to me, pray, that I should be afraid of him?" Mrs. Bennet asked as her voice grew in volume. "I am sure we owe him no such particular civility as to be obliged to say nothing he may not like to hear."

Shooting a nervous glance towards Darcy, Miss Elizabeth leaned in closer to her mother. "For heaven's sake, madam, speak lower. What advantage can it be to you to offend Mr. Darcy? You will never recommend yourself to his friend by so doing."

"Oh! Nonsense Lizzy. How you try my nerves so. Indeed there can be nothing improper in my expressing myself thus. It is plain to see for everyone that we shall have a wedding breakfast here at Netherfield before long and if Mr. Darcy is too proud to see that then we are better off without him. Now, Lady Lucas," she said as she returned her attention to her companion, "have you noticed how much his sisters favor my Jane? Yes indeed they quite adore her and seek the connection most adamantly."

Frustrated with her mother for speaking so in public, and with her father for failing to curb his wife's tongue, Miss Elizabeth looked to Darcy expecting to see indignant contempt written upon his every feature. She was instead arrested by the sight of him biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself from laughing all while shaking his head, eyes closed. Feeling the gaze of his beloved upon him, Darcy opened his eyes to see her staring him in astonished horror, causing him to almost lose his composure completely.

After taking a deep breath, he was able to bestow a smile upon her and mouth "do not worry on my behalf" to her further astonishment. With a large grin, he looked at her mother, then back to her while rolling his eyes in exasperation. Although he was originally appalled at Mrs. Bennet's lack of proper decorum as she spoke of an engagement that had yet to happen, he had realized during her interaction with her daughter that she had simply partaken of too much punch. After all the ridiculousness and frustration of the evening thus far, he found that instead of being upset by this revelation, it made the whole event quite humorous.

In trying to convey his feelings to Miss Elizabeth, he failed to notice her father's watchful eyes upon them both. After seeing Darcy roll his eyes at her mother, she had barely managed to conceal her own mirth at his sentiments whereas her father failed completely. Having just taken a sip of wine when he saw the exchange, Mr. Bennet's laughter at the antics of the two soon turned to a coughing fit. Ironically enough, it was his amusement at the reactions of the younger people at the table that finally stopped his wife's diatribe which was the culprit of the whole incident.

Clapping Mr. Bennet on the back to help him gain some air, Darcy was pleased to see Miss Elizabeth's concern for her father. Having conversed with the gentleman, Darcy was aware that he cared deeply for his second eldest daughter; and now he had seen proof of her sincere care for him. Throughout their many lives, Iliana had never had a good relationship with her parents, most very similar to the one she shared with her father, Varen. Instead she had always been blessed with aunts and uncles, or a family friend to care for her. However, he was pleased to find her truly cared for by at least one of her parents for the first time.

Bingley's sudden call for music at the end of supper brought Darcy out of his reverie. Miss Mary immediately made her way towards the pianoforte after the request had been made and Darcy watched dread cross the features of his beloved.

Although he had heard her play at Lucas Lodge, and therefore was not expecting a superb performance, he had at least expected a decent one; yet he was to be disappointed. Miss Mary's powers were by no means fitted for such a display as her voice was weak and her manner affected. Being so attuned to the music of the earth as he was, Darcy struggled to prevent his discomfort with her performance from showing.

Looking across the table, Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth tried in vain to signal her younger sister in an attempt to end her display early. When her attempts failed, she soon attempted to enlist her father's help. With a large sigh, he finally gave in after the second song as his daughter was preparing a third piece.

"That will do extremely well, child," Mr. Bennet said loudly for all to hear. "You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit."

Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth's face fell with dismay towards her father. Her gaze then turned to her younger sister, who attempted to act as though she had not heard her father's poorly chosen words. Hurrying from the pianoforte, she headed towards a corner of the room where she might be left alone. Without saying a word, Miss Elizabeth stood to follow her sister. After but a brief moment, she left her younger sister to join her elder sister at the punch table.

It was at this unfortunate moment that Mr. Collins decided to bless the room with his opinion regarding music. "If I were so fortunate as to be able to sing," he said, "I should have great pleasure, I am sure, in obliging the company with an air; for I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. I do not mean however to assert that we can be justified in devoting too much of our time to music, for there are certainly other things to be attended to. The rector of a parish has much to do in the first place, he must make such an agreement for tithes as may be beneficial to himself and not offensive to his patron. He must write his own sermons; and the time that remains will not be too much for his parish duties, and the care and improvement of his dwelling, which he cannot be excused from making as comfortable as possible. And I do not think it of light importance that he should have attentive and conciliatory manners towards everybody, especially towards those to whom he owes his preferment. I cannot acquit him of that duty; nor could I think well of the man who would omit an occasion of testifying his respect towards anybody connected with the family."

Disgusted, Darcy watched as Mr. Collins finished his speech with a bow directed towards him. He knew his aunt loved to surround herself with those who would have no scruples in pandering to those of higher standing, yet Darcy was now convinced that she had finally outdone herself. Mr. Collins was indeed a rare specimen. To share so openly his duties while demeaning others for their pursuits in accomplishments was unpardonable, only to then praise him for his high standing in society. For a man who claimed to be humble, Darcy thought he still had much to learn.

Before long, many began to adjourn once more to the ballroom and the dancing reconvened. Having already danced more than was his wont, Darcy was content to stand off to the side and enjoy the discussions of several local gentlemen. He soon found many seeking his opinion regarding their farming practices after learning that he preferred to oversee his fields personally instead of leaving everything to his steward.

Enjoying himself, Darcy found his attention invariably wandering towards his beloved. He was disappointed to see her standing off to the side with Mr. Collins while watching the dancers with envy. Just as he was about to excuse himself to head her way, he watched as an officer approached her only to see her shake her head while bestowing a loathsome look upon her cousin. Oblivious to Miss Elizabeth's distress, Mr. Collins attempted to sidle closer to her as he dismissed the officer from her company.

Angry that because of that man his beloved would be unable to enjoy the remainder of the evening, Darcy resolved that he must do something to help her. He contemplated joining the pair, yet realized that his company would only increase her vexation not lessen it. Instead he noticed her anxious glances towards her younger sister and decided that he could certainly endure one more dance for her.

As the current set ended, Darcy excused himself and wandered towards Miss Mary. Upon approaching her, he saw fear and apprehension in her eyes. Wishing to put her at ease, he bestowed upon her a gentle smile as he requested her hand for the next set. Shocked at his appeal, she stuttered a kind reply before barely managing to accept his arm.

Leading her to the dance floor, Darcy attempted to engage her in conversation, and was disappointed to receive only monosyllabic answers in return. As the dance began, he was surprised to discover that she was quite adept at the exercise and was quick to tell her so.

"You are too kind, Mr. Darcy," she replied.

"I speak as I find, Miss Bennet."

"'A false witness shall not be unpunished, and he that speaketh lies shall not escape'*"

"You believe my words to be false Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked with brows raised in amusement.

"I simply do not understand why you must flatter that which is untrue."

Confused as to how he could help this young woman in an attempt to please his beloved, Darcy remained silent for several minutes in contemplation. After some time, he noticed Miss Mary's apprehension had grown in the silence and she seemed unsure of him once more.

"I find myself amazed at you, Miss Bennet," he finally said with a teasing tone. "For one who is so eager to perform before others, I had assumed you to be more accepting of praise."

"Too much praise, sir, can lead to pride which is a very common failing I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. And if pride is not carefully watched, it can turn to vanity. A person may be proud without being vain, although the two do go together despite their differences. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, and vanity to what we would have others think of us. I do not seek praise as I do not wish to appear vain, sir. I perform because it is expected of a young lady of my standing."

Darcy stared in bewilderment at the young woman in front of him. Despite her words to the contrary, he felt as though her sole purpose in performing was to seek the attention she lacked at home. Wishing to further probe her without causing her distress, he carefully contemplated his next words.

"I cannot believe you only perform because that is what is expected of you. You play with such proficiency that you must find some pleasure in the amusement. Else why would you play at all?"

"I fail to understand what pleasure has to do with young ladies accomplishments, sir."

"My younger sister cannot be persuaded to perform for others although she plays quite as proficiently as you."

"Then why does she play," Miss Mary asked as confusion clouded her face.

"She plays several hours every day because she enjoys the amusement. She has a passion for music that brings such joy to our lives and our homes. Although I have heard many masters perform over the years, few have evoked such emotions in me as she does."

"While I understand playing with such emotion may be acceptable among the _ton_ , it behooves us all to avoid engaging in pleasures as passion is the tool of the evil one."

"You are correct; pleasure and passion when used for the wrong purposes _can_ lead to evil purposes. Yet they are also tools used for great purposes. If it were not for the passions of the composers, we would not have such wonderful music at our disposal. Also many of the greatest sermons I have had the pleasure of hearing were given by those who were passionate about serving the Lord." Darcy watched as he saw comprehension dawning upon her face.

"I...I had not thought of it that way, sir."

"Please do not think I was reproving or criticizing you, Miss Bennet. I was merely surprised by your admissions." Looking down he saw tears gathering in her eyes and feared that his attempts to help her had gone awry. "Miss Bennet please, I beg of you to forgive me for my callous words. Believe me that I would not wish any distress upon you. I did not mean to hurt you."

"No, Mr. Darcy, I must thank you. I must seem a fool to you."

Darcy quickly reassured her that he did not think so, and inquired as to how he could ease her mind. "Answer me honestly, sir. I know that I am not as beautiful or as witty as my elder sisters, nor as lively as my younger. I am loath to admit that I have sought to distinguish myself through my playing and my reading, yet I see now that I have only further alienated myself. What can I do to improve myself in a way that is agreeable to others?"

With a gentle smile, Darcy looked down into her insecure eyes and said, "promise me from this moment on that you will only sit down to play the pianoforte because you want to play, not because you feel you need to. Also, I believe that you might find a willing listener in your elder sister, Miss Elizabeth. You should take her into your confidence."

"Lizzy? No, sir, I know she has no interest in me. She and Jane are much too close to include me in their numbers."

"Perhaps you can then explain the heartache I witnessed crossing her face on your behalf after your father's careless words."

For the first time that evening, he witnessed a true smile upon her face as hope lit her eyes. "Truly?" Seeing his nod she continued. "I cannot thank you enough, sir. Miss Darcy is truly blessed to have an elder brother such as you."

The rest of the set continued in playful chatter as the two reveled in their newfound camaraderie. Darcy was pleased to discover that when not spouting sermons and morals, Miss Mary was quite clever and well read. Looking over towards his beloved who was watching the two with a curious eye, he knew that the young lady he was dancing with would soon flourish under her sisters guiding love.

As the dance ended, Miss Mary cheerfully accepted his arm as he escorted her from the floor. As she curtsied in farewell, she paused before walking away. "You mentioned earlier sir that you were watching my elder sister, Elizabeth. Have you had a change of heart since the assembly, sir?"

Chuckling he replied, "Indeed I most definitely have, Miss Bennet."

"Good," was her simple reply before she left him to join her cousin and sister, a smile upon her face.

The rest of the evening passed without much event, although Darcy was upset that he would not be granted another set with Miss Elizabeth. Yet he found luck on his side as the Bennet's were the last family to depart a full quarter hour after the rest had left.

Darcy stood to the side as he watched Bingley ignore all the others for the companionship of Miss Bennet, while Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters continued to praise Bingley's sisters for the success of their ball.

When the carriage finally arrived at the front of the house, Darcy offered to assist the ladies in while Bingley bid farewell to his angel. Miss Elizabeth was the last to board before her sister, and as such, Darcy took the opportunity to hold on to her hand a little longer than propriety allowed. Confused at the action, she looked into his eyes and he was able to bestow a loving smile and a small nod upon her. Hesitantly she returned a smile, before he released her. Stepping aside he allowed Bingley to help Miss Bennet in, and together the two friends stood upon the top steps watching the family depart.

"I regret that I was unable to accept Mrs. Bennet's invitation to dine tomorrow as I must leave for town in a few hours. I shall be gone only a few days, yet I find myself already missing Hertfordshire," Bingley said with a hint of longing in his voice.

Looking upon his friend, Darcy was pleased to see a sincere smile. "Well then, my friend, I suggest you complete your business as quickly as possible so that you may return soon."

"I believe I shall, Darcy. I find I am loath to be away from her for long."

Laughing, Darcy clasped his friends shoulder and began to lead him inside. "I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that," he said with sincere relief. He knew that Iliana would forever regret leaving behind a family unable to support themselves if the two of them once again failed to break the curse. Knowing that her dearest sister had won the heart of his closest friend brought great joy to him. "I hope I shall be soon wishing you joy, Bingley."

The shock that spread across Bingley's face caused Darcy to laugh harder and was soon joined by his friend. "Thank you Darcy."

"Glad to be of service, old man. Now what do you say to retiring? I would not wish to delay your departure by keeping you up any later."

"Very well Darcy. Good night! I shall see you upon my return."

"That you shall, Bingley."

With a firm hand shake, the two friends departed at the top of the stairs for their separate chambers. Upon reaching his room, Darcy quickly prepared himself for bed and collapsed upon the bed with exhaustion. He was unused to such exertion at balls, and this evening had been more eventful than most. Settling under the covers, Darcy contemplated on the many unusual happenings of the evening. Although it had not gone as he had hoped, he knew without a doubt that he was no longer thought of as such a proud and disagreeable man, and had several allies who were close to Miss Elizabeth. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes as he relived the moment of their dance when her eyes had shone with love for him.

* * *

*Proverbs 19:5 KJV

 **AN:** I regret that it has once again taken me so long to post. The blame this time, however, cannot be laid at my feet. I was forced not once, but twice to rewrite the majority of this chapter as the program I use on my tablet failed to save this chapter not just once, but TWICE over the past 2 days. Anyone who has ever had to rewrite something I hope can understand how infuriating that can truly be. Has anyone else ever had this issue with Polaris Office 5? It was a first for me, and I regularly use the automatic save feature. Needless to say, I believe I will be trying a new program from now on. Does anyone have anything either good or bad to say about OfficeSuite? Any other suggestions? Let me know via a **PM** as I do not wish reviews to be anything other than opinions or thoughts on my story. Thank you!

Well until next time, Happy Reading! - Allahteeah


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

In spite of the late hour of the ball, Darcy had been unable to sleep past sunrise as was his wont. Grateful for the quiet of the house, he had decided to break his fast in the library so that he could attend to some neglected business before meeting with Colonel Forster and Mr. Bennet. While he was thus employed, Bingley's butler had presented him with two newly arrived letters sent express; one from Georgiana and the other from her companion, Mrs. Annesley.

While he always looked forward to a letter from his sister, the fact that he had also received one from her companion worried him; that they were sent express increased his worry. Hesitating slightly, he decided to open the letter from Mrs. Annesley first in the hopes that it did not contain bad tidings.

26 November, 1811  
 _Darcy House  
_ _London_

 _Dear Mr. Darcy_

 _I hope sir that you will forgive me for inconveniencing you when I know you to be enjoying your stay with your friends. Yet I cannot help but beg for your immediate return to London. I fear Miss Darcy, whom I had believed to be improving in spirits, has taken a turn for the worse. I am worried that this return of her despair is somehow connected with the events of this summer and yourself._

 _Last evening Miss Darcy and I took a stroll in the park after dinner when we came across an older gentleman dressed in an unusual looking cloak. She claims she has never met the man, yet the two easily struck up a friendly conversation as he claimed a past acquaintance with you. Although I attempted to request his name I was unsuccessful in garnering any useful information from him. Concerned regarding his forthright manner, I attempted to draw my charge away from him. As she bid the gentleman farewell, he presented her with a single wildflower before disappearing amongst the trees._

 _From the moment she took the flower, I fear Miss Darcy has been behaving in a manner most unlike herself. She has been muttering incessantly about how everything is her fault and how you have deserted her. I have attempted to remove the flower from her person, yet it somehow seems to reappear every time. I took the liberty of calling for the doctor to determine if the flower somehow contained harmful substances, yet he insists that Miss Darcy is in perfect health and that there is nothing unusual regarding the flower._

 _Despite the doctor's assurances, I cannot help but wonder if there is something beyond our understanding taking place. I fear for Miss Darcy, sir, and am at a loss as to how to better help her. She is not acting her normal self._

 _Please advise me as to any other actions you may deem appropriate, and I pray for your swift and safe return._

 _Your Servant,  
_ _S. Annesley_

Heart contracting in fear, Darcy quickly broke the seal on his sister's letter and began to read.

 _Dearest William,_

 _I do so hope you are still enjoying your stay in Hertfordshire. If I remember correctly this evening is Mr. Bingley's ball. I look forward to hearing your account of the event. Knowing Miss Bingley as I do, I am certain that it was a most extravagant affair. Did you dance brother? Oh how I would have loved to have been there. Promise me you will tell me everything. I am most anxious to hear your account._

 _All is well here in London. I continue on with my daily lessons and have learned a new song on the pianoforte. I shall have to play it for you when you return next month for the holidays. I must admit I am anxious to return to Pemberley as London has not the same charm as the country does in the winter._

 _Last evening Mrs. Annesley and I took our after dinner stroll in the park where I met the kindest old man. Although I have never seen him before, he knew my name and claimed an acquaintance with you and our father. At least I assume he meant our father although he specifically said 'your brother's father'. I thought it rather strange at first, yet he told such a wonderful story I forgot all about it until now._

 _When Mrs. A and I bid the gentleman farewell, he gave me the most beautiful wildflower; I have never seen its like. It has the sweetest scent and has yet to wilt. My companion does not appreciate the flower as I do and has tried to remove it from the house, but I am glad she has been unsuccessful. I plan to press it so that I may show it to you._

 _Do not be alarmed by my mentioning it, but the doctor has just called. I believe Mrs. A to be concerned for my health. It is nothing more than a trifle headache and fatigue, nothing that I am sure will not pass quickly. The doctor himself declared me fine, just in need of rest. Dear Mrs. A, however, is quite concerned. She is such a dear, William, and I will forever be grateful to you for securing her for me._

 _Please write soon brother as I miss you terribly and your letters are always of such comfort._

 _Your loving sister,  
_ _Georgiana_

Darcy stared in horror at the two letters in his hand. He was grateful that Mrs. Annesley had seen fit to write him, for had it been merely Georgiana's letter, he would not have given the issues of her health and the stranger much thought. Mrs. Annesley had stated that his sister's emotional state had worsened, yet if he had to judge solely from Georgiana's he would have assumed everything to be just fine. As it was, he had been forewarned and could feel the magic influencing his sister's words leaking from the page.

Anger such as he had not felt in centuries overcame him. It was bad enough that there was someone preventing Miss Elizabeth's memories from returning. Now someone, and he assumed the two to be the same, was threatening him through his beloved sister.

Needing to release the building tension in his body, Darcy stood and began to pace the library. Questions assaulted him from every angle of thought: Who was this being? Were they friend or foe? Why did Iliana trust them? Was there more than one being? Why use Georgiana to try to keep him away from Miss Elizabeth?

It was obvious to him that this being wished to keep Miss Elizabeth's memories at bay, yet he could not determine why. From what he knew of their oppressors, they relished in their suffering together. Circumstances had always led them to each other, and once found, kept them together. They had only faced mortal danger after they had both regained their memories once more. He had discussed many times with Iliana why this appeared to be so, and the only answer they could come up with was the greater pain of false hope. Never had they been separated after finding each other by anything other than death.

Walking towards the window, he leaned against the frame and stared out towards where he knew Longbourn to be. How he wished he could talk to Iliana, have her help in solving this puzzle. She had always been the cleverer one of the two, and had the ability to see things in ways he could never think of on his own. He needed her, yet if the being continued as they were, he knew it could be a long while yet.

Sighing, he rested his aching head against the cool glass. Although the being kept interfering in his efforts, he was loath to admit that they had done nothing more than simply interfere. There was no true harm in that besides his heartache. Georgiana, however, had been harmed. Her already fragile emotional state had been pushed over the edge. By approaching his sister, the being had given a clear message: he was not a welcome presence in Miss Elizabeth's life at this time. They could not have found a better way to draw him away from his beloved.

Tears rolled down his face as he thought of leaving Hertfordshire and Iliana. For five years he had searched for her among all those he came in contact with, his despair at being alone growing each year. At last he had found her and the joy he felt was great. He had thought he was finally to be relieved of his current misery. But he had failed to recognize her, insulted her, and every attempt to draw her out was thwarted. Twice he had almost succeeded and Darcy feared the pain if there was a third failure.

He knew if he truly wanted to end his misery he could and he would. All he had to do was try again and refuse to give in to the other being. Persistence had paid off the first time he won her heart; he knew he could do so again. Hope began to flutter in his chest at the thought. He was to meet with Mr. Bennet that afternoon, and if he so wished, he could request a private audience with Miss Elizabeth. During that time, he would use all his magic to draw Iliana out from her sleep.

As he turned from the window with a new determination, he spotted the letters he had dropped on the floor at some point during his pacing. Bending down to retrieve them, he felt the hope inside him die. Although she would be left to the sole guardianship of their capable cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, he knew he could not leave Georgiana yet. She was not ready to lose her brother and lose him she would if Miss Elizabeth remembered now and they failed again to break the curse.

Although they believed their marriage would break the curse, they were unsure if that would truly do the trick or if there was more required of them. Whether or not marriage was the key, they had yet to experience it. During their fifth lifetime, he had realized that they both remained miraculously safe and healthy until the other had regained their memories and marriage was spoken of. During that lifetime, he had proposed immediately after she remembered and they headed directly to the church. It was at that unfortunate time that a band of raiders entered their village and he was shot through the heart by an arrow as he attempted to protect her.

After that experience, they tried various techniques. At one point, his father had been a priest and they were in his family kitchen when his memories returned. Without saying a word to each other, they headed up the stairs to his father's room when his dog came barreling towards them causing her to fall and break her neck. At other times, just as they had done last time on the ship, they waited for as long as several months before speaking of marriage. As soon as they had discussed it, however, one of them died within a few hours, the marriage unperformed. Once they had even gone so far as to attempt a secret marriage.

As he contemplated all he knew, he came to several realizations. The first was that he could not leave Georgiana until he was assured of her security and happiness; he would not leave her alone and distressed in the world. The second, that although he had the power within him to help Miss Elizabeth remember, the pain of leaving her behind while he attended to his sister would be lessened if she remained as she currently was. Lastly, he realized that no matter what he did, there was someone out there who would no longer remain backstage on this farce he called his life. Whoever the magical being was, they had finally entered the play and would act their part through until the end. Darcy hoped that by following the beings script, he might discover who they are and how to end their interference.

.

.

.

Darcy's meeting with Colonel Forster had gone much as he expected. Upon arrival, he was shown into the Colonel's private quarters and immediately questioned on his history with Wickham. He had related many instances from their boyhood where Wickham had begun to show evil tendencies. As he shared their time at Cambridge and beyond, he had been asked to show proof of the many debts Wickham had incurred.

Having been prepared for such an inquiry, Darcy was able to produce one of his many ledgers of business. Whenever he traveled, he was always careful to pack a few business ledgers and books so that if needed he could attend to any unexpected business that could not be handled by his steward or solicitor. One such ledger was a record of all Wickham's deeds. Inside were receipts of debts bought as well as written testimonials from families whose daughters had been harmed.

Upon seeing the ledger book, Colonel Forster grew quite suspicious as though he suspected the whole thing to be a set up. Darcy was quick to reassure him that such was not the case. He told the Colonel that there had been a few instances where he had visited a friend or passed through a neighborhood after Wickham had already left the area. Sometimes their visits were months apart, but once he had arrived a mere week later. Although such was not always the case, Darcy explained that he had paid men whose sole duty was to follow Wickham and keep him abreast of the man's activities. As such, he did not trust himself or others to accidentally misplace any new information if he was away from home upon receiving it.

Colonel Forster was so amazed at the extent of Darcy's commitments to both his estate and business ventures as well as to what he felt his duties were that he refused the offer to contact Colonel Fitzwilliam as a witness to Darcy's many dealings with Wickham. Darcy was also relieved as he had not been required to share with him Georgiana's near elopement.

By the end of the meeting, Darcy had been informed as to the full extent of Wickham's activities since his arrival in Meryton. Despite what he knew of his childhood friend, he had been struck dumb upon hearing how much debt he had accrued in less than a week. He was grateful that he had not waited any longer to confront and expose the man as the numbers were beyond anything he had seen before; something the Colonel contributed to Darcy's being in town.

Although he had offered to once again buy up Wickham's debts, Colonel Forster had refused him. Wickham was to be transferred to a new regiment and would be under strict orders. He was to train with the regular recruits and any spare time would be spent under the watchful eye of his new commanding officer. When not training or assisting his commanding officer, Wickham would be placed under armed guard. Any wages not used for basic essentials would be sent directly to Colonel Forster until all his debts in Meryton were paid off. In the meantime, the Colonel had informed every tradesman and shopkeeper that they were not to extend a line of credit to any member of the militia without his permission.

Darcy had expressed his concern over the necessity of wasting so much manpower over Wickham in a time of war but Colonel Forster had merely smiled eerily and assured him that all would be just fine. Wickham's new commanding officer was a strict disciplinarian who owed him a large favor.

Satisfied that all would be well and Wickham would be separated from the Bennet's, Darcy had thanked the Colonel and left feeling as though a large weight had disappeared from his life.

Looking at his pocket watch, he decided he would wait until after the luncheon hour to call upon Mr. Bennet. In the meantime, he decided to head towards the Meryton Inn for his own meal. Before leaving Netherfield, he had informed his man to begin packing his things as they were to leave first thing the next morning. He had then left a message for Miss Bingley and the Hurst's informing them that he would be gone for the majority of the day and would depart tomorrow. He had left immediately to post a letter to Mrs. Annesley and his housekeeper informing them of his arrival. He was determined to keep away from Netherfield until all his business was concluded else Miss Bingley corner him and attempt to coerce him to stay.

Arriving at the inn, he was hailed immediately by several officers who invited him to join them as they dined. With a small smile, he agreed. He knew that every bit of support he could attain before facing his beloved for the last time before leaving would be a great comfort.

Joining the officers, he found himself chatting amiably before long, his troubles all but forgotten. They talked of many subjects; the ball, the society in Meryton, the war. Thankfully the topic of Wickham never arose since all the officers by that time were hopeful that they had seen the last of him.

Finally the time came for the officers to return to their duties and they began to wish him farewell until one of them invited him to join them later for an evening of cards. Wishing he could accept, Darcy regretfully informed them that he would be unable to attend them as he was required to return to town the next morning. The disappointment felt by all was increased when informed that he knew not when he would next return as his duty to his sister was paramount to his own personal leisure. With heartfelt farewells and wishes for both his health and that of his sister, the officers departed leaving Darcy to make his way to Longbourn.

From the moment Darcy arrived at Longbourn, he could tell that all was not well inside the house. Dismounting his horse, he realized that he could not sense the presence of his beloved inside. Fear as he wondered where she could be began to overcome him until he saw Cyrus run towards him. Bending down he began to scratch behind the cats ears as he reached out to read his thoughts. With a sigh of relief, he was informed that Miss Elizabeth had gone walking towards Oakham Mount after suffering through a trying ordeal at home. Shaking his head in amusement, he thought it natural for her to seek comfort from the outdoors she so loved.

Whispering to the cat to follow her and keep her from harm, Darcy stood and walked towards the front door of the house. Upon knocking, an older woman whom Darcy assumed to be the housekeeper opened the door and took his card. Ushering him inside, she instructed him to wait while she informed her master of his arrival.

Looking around, Darcy was pleased to see that the house was comfortably furnished. Although it appeared as though many of the furnishings were old and worn, everything was in wonderful condition. It pleased him to know that his beloved had grown up in such an environment. Although never well off, she must have always been comfortably settled here.

A sudden wail sounded from above stairs followed by shrieks for a Mrs. Hill startling Darcy from his observations. Looking around in anticipation for the servant, Darcy was shocked to espy instead two young maids giggling in hushed tones as they pointed towards where he had heard the cry. Appalled at their deportment, he almost missed hearing a man clear his throat. Turning, he saw Mr. Bennet considering him with a careful eye.

"Mr. Darcy, sir. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Darcy's eyebrows rose in shock at the address. Had he misunderstood Mr. Bennet the night before? No, he was certain he had been asked to come. "I am calling at your request, sir. If this is not an appropriate time I would be pleased to call later this evening or to leave you a letter with the information you requested as I am afraid I must return to town tomorrow and know not when I shall return."

Chuckling, Mr. Bennet shook his head. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. Please forgive me for having forgotten about our appointment. I am afraid that after the events of this morning I find my normally quiet routine quite disturbed. Please follow me; I would not wish to be interrupted."

Handing his great coat, hat and riding crop to one of the maids he had spotted earlier, Darcy followed Mr. Bennet down a short hallway to a small room. Standing aside, Mr. Bennet indicated that Darcy precede him. Entering what he assumed to be a combined study and library, Darcy felt warmth fill his heart. Overflowing bookshelves covered every wall, while several other books lay stacked on various surfaces around the room. In the middle was a medium sized desk covered in strewn papers and two wing backed chairs near the fire. It was towards these chairs that Mr. Bennet indicated that he should sit.

As Mr. Bennet produced some tumblers and a decanter of brandy, Darcy's attention was drawn to the window seat across from him. Images of Miss Elizabeth at many different ages flooded his mind. There she was sitting there with her father learning to read, seeking comfort from his arms, and laughing at the book she held in her hand with her knees drawn up to her chest. Smiling, he accepted a glass from Mr. Bennet as he considered how much joy being in this sanctuary of hers brought him.

Seeing Mr. Bennet's amused look, Darcy uncomfortably cleared his throat. "You have quite the room here, sir. I am rather impressed. You must spend a lot of time here as it seems most comfortable and you have quite the collection."

"I am glad _you_ think so sir as my family is convinced that I spend too much of my time here. They claim it is not good for my health to hide away as I do."

"Well then, I am pleased to find in you sir a like soul. My sister says much the same of me. Once I shut myself away in my study or library, it takes much coercion on her part to draw me away."

"Do you have a passion for the written word as well, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed I do, a passion instilled in me by my father. I am always adding to my collection much as my sister adds to her wardrobe."

Laughing at his words, Mr. Bennet was quick to reply. "In such a case as that, sir, I am surprised that you have any income at all." Joining in the gentleman's laughter, Darcy agreed that such could easily be the case if he had been so unlucky as to have an over frivolous sibling. "You must surely have quite the collection then," Mr. Bennet said.

"Indeed I do, although much of it has been procured over the years by my ancestors. However, I cannot neglect the practice. Our house in town has only been in the family for three generations now, so I find there are many books at Pemberley that I must add to my collection in London."

"Now that is unusual, sir. I understood most gentlemen to keep only a few favorites at their London residences while the majority of their collections remain at their estates."

"While that is true amongst most of my acquaintance," Darcy said, "I do not agree. I would hate to end up in town for an undetermined amount of time with a poor selection to choose from. It would not be conducive at all to a pleasant life. I am not one for social discourse as I am sure you have noticed, sir, and would avoid town completely if it were not for my many business ventures."

"You continue to amaze me, Mr. Darcy. I applaud you in your choice of pursuits. Most young men would not be as structured. Now you find me quite envious. I fear Mrs. Bennet will not allow me any more room to store my precious tomes, so I find myself quite limited when it comes acquiring more."

"Well next time you find yourself in London, sir, I beg you would stop by. I would be happy to show you my library and to lend you any books you might desire. You would also be quite welcome at Pemberley if you ever found yourself in that part of the country."

"Thank you Mr. Darcy, you are too kind." Raising his glass in a toast, Mr. Bennet took a drink as he considered his next words. "Now perhaps we should get down to business. I would not wish to detain you any longer than necessary."

"Certainly," Darcy replied as he leaned forward and set his own glass aside. "What exactly is it that you would like to know?"

"I hope you will forgive me if I am not as quick as others have been to believe words spoken by those who are filled with anger. Would you be so kind as to share your past with Mr. Wickham?" Seeing Darcy hesitate, he quickly continued. "If it were not for the affection I hold for my daughters I would not ask this of you. I know I am not the most attentive father and in many ways I have neglected my paternal duties, but I cannot stand by when I know my daughters to be in possible danger."

"Let me assure you, Mr. Bennet that I would not have agreed to come if I was unwilling to share my knowledge with you. Too many young ladies have fallen victim to the scoundrel and I would not wish to see any of your daughters come to the same harm. I admire you greatly for your doubt. I am simply unsure of where to start."

"From the beginning is possibly the best solution."

Chuckling lightly, Darcy agreed and began his tale. By the end, both gentlemen had refilled their glasses twice.

"I truly had no idea he was as bad as that. I am surprised that my Lizzy has been so fooled by the man."

"I am not so surprised sir. Mr. Wickham can please where he chooses, and I am afraid I have inadvertently helped his cause where Miss Elizabeth is concerned." Sighing he looked at Mr. Bennet who was eyeing him expectantly. "I have done your daughter a grave injustice, sir, and as a result she does not think well of me and allowed Mr. Wickham to pollute her mind with his lies."

"May I ask why it is you felt the need to insult my daughter, sir? More importantly, why is her opinion of such import to you?"

Standing up, he began to pace the small room, Mr. Bennet's eyes following him carefully. Unsure how to express himself to her father, he decided he would play on the truth of his situation. "When I first saw Miss Elizabeth, she reminded me of another I once knew. Upon realizing she was not who I thought she was, I determined to prevent her from forming an attachment to me. I regret to say that I was successful. As I continued to find myself in her company, I could not help but notice that she has many attributes similar to the other young lady I once knew. I soon found myself wishing to know her better; however, due to my careless words at the assembly, she has no desire to know me."

"Am I to assume, sir, that you fancy my daughter because she reminds you of a past love?" Anger glinted from his eyes as he spoke.

Realizing the danger he now found himself in, Darcy continued hesitantly. "I cannot deny that it was her similarities that first attracted me to her. Yet the more I see of her, the more I realize she is different and unique." Sudden meaning of the man's words from the night before dawned upon him. "You were wise to advise me against letting her live in the shadow of another, sir. I must stop comparing her and allow her to be her own person instead of trying to see the person I want her to be."

Sitting down as the full force of his realization hit him, Darcy felt a powerful surge overcome him. A soft laughter rang through the room heard only by him, although he was unable to determine if it was one of joy or evil. Not wishing to give the being any attention, he looked up to see an approving look in Mr. Bennet's eyes.

"I am glad you see it as I do, son. Now," he said leaning his elbows on his knees "is there something you wish to ask me?"

Confused, Darcy considered the man in front of him. When Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow in amusement, he once again felt a surge of hope he had to force away. "No there is not, sir. As much as I would wish to declare myself to your daughter, I cannot. I received an urgent express from my sister's companion this morning and I must return to town without further delay. I need to remove my sister to Pemberley for her health and I am unsure as to when I shall return. I shall hope to return after the new year, yet if her health is not improved I shall be delayed until after the spring plantings."

"If you truly wish for an attachment with my daughter, do you believe such a separation wise without informing her of your desires?"

Pausing, Darcy considered Mr. Bennet's words. He knew that although it did not seem wise, to declare himself would only make matters worse. After the experience in the library and again when he had come upon her in the street, he knew she had no desire for his attentions. She feared them in fact.

"I do believe so sir. Your daughter does not care for my opinion at this time, and I fear expressing myself would only hurt my suit. I believe if I give her time, she will hopefully become more amenable to hearing what others now say of me. Proof of Wickham's evil deeds will also hopefully help."

"Very well, sir. I will leave you to follow your own counsel."

"I thank you sir."

"Would you be so willing as to join us for dinner this evening? I assure you your presence would be most welcome."

"I am afraid I must decline, sir. I would not wish to impose on such short notice and I must return to Netherfield to complete my preparations."

"As you wish, Mr. Darcy. May I wish you luck on your journey and best of health to your sister? I hope it shall not be long before we see you in Hertfordshire again." Standing, Mr. Bennet extended his hand which Darcy gratefully took in return as he stood as well.

"You may be assured that I will return as soon as may be. Again I thank you, Mr. Bennet. And best of health to you as well."

With a final farewell, Darcy allowed the gentleman to lead him towards the front door. As he was donning his coat and hat, they heard another wail from above stairs. "Oh we are all, all ruined!" Concerned, Darcy swung around in time to see Mr. Bennet roll his eyes. With a conspiratorial whisper, the older gentleman leaned forward and began to whisper.

"In light of what we have just discussed, I feel myself bound to inform you sir that Lizzy refused an offer of marriage this morning from my cousin Mr. Collins. Much to Mrs. Bennet's displeasure I refused to force her hand. I will not allow her to enter into a marriage where she cannot love and respect her partner."

Unable to hide his relief, Darcy smiled and bowed in thanks. With a last farewell, he left the house and mounted his horse.

As he trotted down the lane, he saw a sudden movement in the brush. Pulling his horse to a stop, he watched as a disgruntled Miss Elizabeth entered the lane.

"Mr. Darcy!" She came to a sudden halt as she spotted the man in front of her.

Touching his hat, he nodded towards her, "Miss Bennet. How do you do?"

"I am well, thank you." Shifting her feet nervously she looked around. Suddenly realizing where he was she looked up at him in surprise. "Sir, have you just come from Longbourn?"

Chuckling lightly he bestowed a dimpled smile upon her. "Indeed I have, madam. Your father requested an audience with me last night and I have just concluded my business with him."

"Oh! And may I inquire as to what business you had with my father?" She asked with a raised brow.

"You may indeed, Miss Bennet, but I believe it is up to your father to determine what he feels appropriate to share with you. I would not wish to overstep my bounds."

Glancing up at him curiously, she simply nodded her head before bidding him farewell. He turned and watched as she began to walk away. Realizing that he might not see her again for several months, he called out to her as he swung off his mount. Turning in surprise, she looked up at him, apprehension in her eyes.

"Miss Bennet, I must beg your forgiveness. I believe you overheard a comment I made to my friend the night of the assembly. I can offer you no excuse for my behavior, but I would beg you most fervently to understand that I do not believe the words I spoke. I have never been more wrong than I was at that moment."

"Mr. Darcy I...I know not what to say. I never expected such words from you."

"And for that I must once again beg your forgiveness. I know I have not endeared myself to you, yet I could not leave Hertfordshire without assuring you of my deep regret."

"You...you are leaving, sir?"

"I am. I leave first thing in the morning to attend my sister who suffers from ill health. I know not when I shall return."

"Then I shall bid you good day, sir. May you travel safe and see your sister soon returned to health."

With a smile, he reached out and grasped her gloved hand. Looking into her eyes with great hesitation, he quickly lifted her hand to his lips and bestowed a kiss upon her knuckles much as he had always done with Iliana. Without saying another word, he remounted his horse and rode away forcing himself to not look back.

.

.

.

"You...you are leaving, sir?"

Elizabeth was unsure why she asked the question, nor why his answer was so important to her. Upon hearing him reply that he was leaving due to his sister's poor health, she felt an unexpected relief. The relief was only temporary, however, as he continued saying he was unsure when he would return. The pain that overcame her took her breath away. Ever since his arrival she had been praying he would leave, and now that he was, she did not want him to go.

Her feelings regarding the man were more confusing now than they had ever been before. Despite what the officers said he had done, she was convinced that Wickham had only been driven to such depravity because the man in front of her had denied his childhood friend what was owed him. Yet as he stood in front of her, apologizing for something she never thought he would, she felt a desire for him.

Forcing herself to speak, she wished him a safe journey hoping that he would accept her forgiveness and leave her forever in peace. Instead he had smiled and took her hand. Finding herself unable to breathe, she watched with baited anticipation as he raised her hand to his lips.

Never before had she allowed a man to kiss her hand, yet the feeling she experienced was one of familiarity and comfort. As he dropped her hand, she once again saw in his place a man with light hair and Mr. Darcy's deep blue eyes. She felt such a connection with that man, yet knew not who he was.

Before she was aware of it, Mr. Darcy had remounted his horse and was trotting away from her. Unable to move from her spot, she felt as though her heart was breaking against her will as he rode away from her, unsure when she would see him again.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 _"May I join you, My Lady?"_

With a smile Iliana looked up to see the fairy king watching her expectantly. "Of course, Your Majesty, it would be my honor."

"Come now my dear, I believe I have already requested several times that you need not address me so formally. Adair will do nicely."

"As you wish, _sire_ ," she replied with a chuckle.

"Ah, I should have known the woman my son would fall in love with would be as stubborn as his mother."

Upon hearing his words, Iliana felt her breath hitch and her heart stop. Unconsciously her eyes wandered the meadow until they rested upon _him. "_ I...I know not of what you speak, sire."

"Come now, my dear, there is no need to hide the truth. I have been watching the two of you all week and I am certain there is much to tell." Shifting uncomfortably, she glanced sideways at her companion as he continued. "There was too much animosity between the two of you during your _introduction_ to believe it was a first time meeting. Then of course after you came across him accidentally at his favorite hideaway you have been nearly inseparable."

"So you knew he was at the spring," she said accusingly to which he only grinned. "You sent me there on purpose. Why?"

"It was clear to me that you were both hurt by the actions of the other and I could not stand by and let either of you suffer. I care too much about my son and your aunt to let that happen. Of course, now that I have finally met you, I find myself caring about you as well. Every pair of lovers has their spats, yet I could not allow the two of you to start such a festive holiday on bad terms."

"You are too kind, sire, but you are wrong," she said, a note of despair in her voice.

"Would you care to elaborate on that, My Lady?"

"Your son does not love me. Since it has been so obvious to you, I will not hesitate to admit that Eavan and I have previously met, yet we are nothing more than friends. That is all we could ever be."

"I disagree with you. However, it is not my place to interfere in matters of the heart."

"Is that not what you are attempting to do right now sire?" She asked, one brow raised in disbelief.

Laughing, he patted her knee, "not at all my dear. I am simply seeking answers and wishing to supply them in return."

"What is it you wish to know?" She asked in resignation, her eyes once more seeking Eavan as he continued to mingle with the other guests.

"How long have you known him?" Adair asked with a note of seriousness in his voice.

"We met two winters past, sire. I came across him in our forests as I was leaving for my annual hunt."

"Would that be the same winter he was delayed a week due to a troupe of druids?"

"Yes, sire. I was able to sneak up on him as he was quite distracted by their harvest celebrations."

With a dark chuckle of displeasure Adair said, "I am sure my son did not take kindly to being caught so."

"No he did not," Iliana said as her eyes lit in humor at the recollection. "He at first believed me to be a youngling and tried to intimidate me into releasing him."

"Oh?" Adair inquired. Before long, both were laughing as she shared the events of that day in the forest. By the end, he was wiping tears from his eyes as he tried to picture his staid son hanging upside down, wrapped in branches. "Well I will have to remember to never upset you, my dear. _I_ would not wish to find myself thus captive." Taking a deep breath he thought back to the day his son had finally returned from that trip. "I am surprised my son did not arrive home in a state of displeasure after such an occurrence. I know he is slow to forgive others their offences against him, yet he seemed happier than I had seen him in a long time when he returned." Turning a questioning look upon her he watched as she blushed.

"We did indeed meet two weeks later, as we were both caught in the first winter storm and sought shelter amongst the same grove of trees." With a smile, she trailed off as her mind returned to that night and the sight of him trying to force the trees to do his will.

"I am glad to know that you were able to resolve some of your differences that night," he said with a knowing smile. "I then assume that the two of you have met up once every season since then?"

Nodding, she glanced at the king in great confusion. "Yes sire. We both have duties that take us from home at the same time every season, so we had agreed to meet up at the same grove where we sought shelter from that storm. How were you aware of our meetings sire? By your own admission you did not know of my acquaintance with your son until I arrived with my aunt's party and Eavan assured me he had told no one of our meetings."

"I may not be in my son's confidence when it comes to this one matter, but I am not blind. Although he has always been anxious to leave the home tree every season, it has always been more of an escape for him. Now, he views his duties as the highlight of his life. The excitement he shows every time he leaves was absent before he met you. He also has become more withdrawn, yet unable to hide the ridiculous grin he wears every time he returns home; the same grin I have seen him wear all week while in your company."

"Forgive me sire for doubting you. I had no idea that we had been so obvious."

"There is nothing to forgive, my dear. And I believe that I can safely assure you that the two of you have not been as obvious as you may think. I just happen to know my son better than anyone else. His mother and your aunt may suspect something, yet I do not believe they have made the connection. They will though I am sure; I know no other women as clever as those two."

Nodding, Iliana watched as a young nymph dragged Eavan out to join a line of dancers. Giggling, she watched as he caught her eye to express his displeasure. Shaking her head, she nodded towards his partner who did not seem pleased by his inattention before turning back to her own companion. She was arrested by the sight of love and happiness shining from his father's eyes.

"I ask again, My Lady, why do you believe my son does not love you? I see the way his eyes seek you out as yours do him and no one can deny the pleasure you display towards each other."

Sighing, Iliana looked down at her hands in her lap. "Your son may be my closest friend, sire, but he has made it very clear on several occasions how he feels about marriage and the fairer sex."

Seeing the hurt and despair in her eyes, Adair made a quick decision for which he hoped his son would forgive him. "Come my dear," he said as stood up and held out an arm for her. "I find I am in need of stretching my legs and I would greatly appreciate your company."

Confused, she rose and accepted his arm. When he began to lead her away from the meadow, she stopped hesitating slightly. When he turned to her in question she darted a quick look back before speaking. "Is it wise to leave your guests, sire? Would you not be missed?"

"No indeed. Everyone is much too merry to notice my absence and I find I have a story to share with you which I would not wish any others to overhear."

Glancing back once more, she took a deep breath and indicated that he should continue to lead on. After they had walked some distance from the meadow in silence, he finally began to speak.

"What do you know, My Lady, about the original five?"

Shocked at the topic he chose, she considered her words carefully before answering. "The five were chosen from among the first fifteen magical beings to be our leaders over a millennia ago when magic was first brought to the earth. There were three members from each of five races; elves, fairies, giants, dwarves, and goblins. It is from these fifteen that all other magical beings descend from. Of the three per race, there was a leader who could control raw magic, and a couple who were blessed with the gift of love in order to populate the earth."

"Yes, and populate they did," Adair scoffed. "That much is known by all, however what is not known, is how the five lived their lives. You see, while their brothers and sisters were given the gift of love and companionship, the five were left to live a life of loneliness. They watched as the others had children and then as their children had children. They were surrounded by love and began to desire that above all else, yet it could not be found. They were the most powerful beings in the world, yet no amount of power could replace the loneliness in their lives.

"As time went on, four of the five eventually found love amongst the mortals and desired to share their lives with them. However, they discovered that although they must beget heirs, the heirs could not descend from mortal blood; they must be pure magic. The four were heartbroken, and attempted to use their magic to change their loves, to bestow power upon them. They were successful, but the cost was far too high. As a punishment for using their magic to change the laws of nature, all four were stripped of their abilities to control the raw magic. Eventually they died of madness.

"Although their heirs, of which you are one, remain amongst the most powerful beings of all the magical realms, they no longer can control raw magic."

"That is so sad! To give everything up for love, only to be punished for it. Surely they did not deserve such a fate."

"No they did not," Adair said with a faraway look. "Love truly is the greatest gift of all, one to be cherished. If I had been faced with the same decision, I believe I would have done the same as they."

"As would I," Iliana said. Wondering what this story had to do with her and Eavan, she realized that he had yet to share the fate of the fifth member of the original five. Quirking her head, she inquired as to the final members story feeling there was more than what she had been told.

"Yes there is much more than is generally known," he answered with a sad smile. "Being the only member of the five to not fall in love with a mortal, he was given the full powers taken from all the others. He had gone from being a member of a council, to being the most powerful being to ever live. The other four accused him of usurping their own powers and war broke out. He watched in despair as his friends slowly withered away, leaving him feeling utterly alone. After two centuries of war among the realms, and the deaths of two generations of heirs, he was finally able to secure peace among all the magical races."

"Yet he died never having found love."

"That is where you are very wrong, My Lady. Eventually he did find love, and was lucky enough to find it among his own people. As for his death, well, it has not happened yet."

"You mean to tell me that one of the original five is still alive?" Iliana asked in amazement. "But, sire, although I know all races to be immortal, no one has been recorded to have lived for more than eight hundred years! We are all susceptible to life threatening injuries, and with the many wars between both us immortals and the mortals...No sire, you must be in error."

"I am not in error, My Lady. I can personally assure you as to the truth of my story."

"But how? Every story I have ever heard of the five tells of his dying alone. No one even knows which race he was a member of."

"Have you ever considered that maybe he shared that story in an attempt to protect himself? I know the records from that time are hazy, yet perhaps he has used that information to his advantage."

"How is it that you seem to know so much, sire?" She asked suddenly suspicious. "My aunt herself has stated that she knows him to be dead, yet you stand there insisting he is not. Will you not tell me how you know what no one else knows?"

Stopping, he removed her hand from his arm as he grasped her shoulders as though to brace her. "Lady Iliana, although Lareina is a dear friend of mine, she cannot be told this story as I would not wish her to come to harm."

"Then why tell me, Your Majesty?" She asked as fear began to creep into her heart.

"Because if I am correct in thinking my son cares for you, this knowledge will forever affect your life and decisions where he is concerned." Taking a deep breath, Adair looked deep into her eyes forcing her to do the same with him. "Eavan is the first and sole heir of the remaining member of the five. As such, if I should ever die, he will be the only being on earth who is capable of controlling raw magic."

Stumbling backwards upon hearing his words, Iliana found herself being lowered down upon a fallen log. Doubts, accusations, and anger clouded her mind as she processed this information. Looking up at the fairy king, she was immediately calmed by the concern present upon his face. Sudden dawning of Eavan's issues towards love and marriage came upon her.

"The fairies know who you are, correct?" She finally asked hoping her suspicions were correct.

"Regretfully yes. While it has been easy to alter records of my existence among the other races, I have not been able to do so successfully among my own people. I do not hide out of greed or spite, but out of love and concern. The fourteen others were more than just my friends; they were my brothers and sisters in every meaning of the words. When they turned upon me out of greed and jealousy, my heart shattered. I saw the desire they had for the power I wield, the power I have been entrusted to protect. There are too many out there who would use such power for evil, and I cannot allow anyone else to suffer for it. And now with the druid's new abilities, I cannot take the risk of them stealing my power."

"I understand, sire, and I assure you that your secret is safe with me. I thank you for trusting me. However, I feel as though you have yet to tell me what this has to do with my concerns regarding your son. Who was she and what did she do to him?"

Chuckling, Adair ran his fingers through his hair, much as she had seen his son do whenever he was distressed. The similarity between the two struck her with much amusement, and she was grateful that he had such a loving father. "Clever as well as stubborn. I should have known," he said. "May I?" He asked indicating a spot on the log beside her. Nodding in acceptance she scooted over to make room for him.

"Eavan has grown up witnessing a wonderful marriage between his mother and myself. Anthea is truly my hearts greatest desire and my closest companion. There is nothing I do not share with her, nor do I do anything without seeking her counsel. From years of watching the mortals and other magical beings, I knew I could only marry a woman whom I deemed my equal in every way. Knowing what you now know of me, I am sure that such a declaration would seem strange, yet it is the truth. She will never be my equal in power, yet in every other way she is. I would do anything for her because I love her and wish only to see her happy in life.

"During Eavan's twentieth year, he and his friend Tavi met a young fairy from the far north. Her name was Keelia and she was very beautiful. Both young men immediately took a liking to her. Eavan, having never fancied himself in love before, began to bestow upon her many gifts as he had seen me do with his mother. It did not take her long to realize that he would be willing to do anything she asked of him. For months he catered to her every whim, sure that she was the one he wished to marry.

"One unfortunate day, he discovered Keelia in a passionate embrace with Tavi. Heartbroken and betrayed, he confronted the couple. It was then that she told him that she had always preferred Tavi over him. Many other things she had said of him that day but the most hurtful was that she had only pretended interest in him because she wanted his position in life as heir to the most powerful magical being. Hurt and angry, he turned to Tavi who told him much the same thing.

"From that day on, Eavan has shunned any friends. He is wary of all because he fears being used for his position as he once was. As for the relationship I share with his mother, he no longer sees it as something to aspire to. Please do not doubt his affection for both his mother and myself as he has never doubted our love for him. He does not, however, look upon our displays of affection with a kind eye. To him, my giving my wife anything she desires is my weakness and her taking advantage of my love. He fails to see that when two people are truly in love, they will do anything for each other."

"No wonder he mistrusts women. He has blinded himself to the sacrifices Anthea has made for you and sees only your side of the relationship." Looking up, Iliana saw Adair nod in agreement. "It is no wonder he constantly misunderstands me and misconstrues my actions. If I truly wish to continue a friendship with him, then I need to do something for him."

Nodding, Adair bestowed a smile upon her. "May I ask, My Lady, why it is so important to you for my son to think well of you?"

Brows knit, Iliana thought back to the many times she had spent with him. "Eavan is my only true friend, sire, and I wish for him to know that I truly care about him. He needs a friend he can trust with all his heart, and I want to be that friend."

Smiling, Adair thought that although she did not say it, the love she was beginning to feel for his son was shining through her eyes. "In that case, My Lady, what do you plan to do?"

Lifting her hand to her mouth, she began to bite down upon her thumbnail as she thought of many possibilities. Sudden memories of his gaze upon her as she danced in the meadow of wildflowers inspired an idea.

"I believe, sire," she said turning to face Adair, "that tomorrow's summer solstice is also the anniversary of the day of his birth?" Seeing him nod in confirmation, she smiled brightly and said that she wished to give him a gift in celebration, yet she would need help. After relating her idea, she was pleased to see the king throw his head back in laughter and declare it to be perfect. Standing up he once again offered her his arm as he led her towards the spring where she would create the perfect gift for Eavan.

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.

.

"Where are you leading me, Ellette?"

"Do you not trust me, milord?" She asked and he could hear the mocking tone in her voice.

"On the contrary," he replied with a large grin. "I would not have agreed to such a scheme if I did not. There is none other I would rather trust my life to than you."

Without warning, he found himself running into her. Opening his eyes, he saw that she had stopped and was staring up at him with a distinct shine in her eyes.

"You...you trust me Eavan?"

Bringing the hand that held his up to his lips, he kissed her knuckles refusing to break away from her steady gaze. "I do. I know not how I have gained your trust and friendship for I have done nothing to deserve it but I will be eternally grateful that I have it. In return for your good faith, I find myself unwilling to offer anything less in return." Reaching up with his other hand, he gently brushed the tears falling down her face.

"You know not how your words have eased my heart," she replied leaning into his touch. "My father has often reprimanded me for my stubbornness saying that it would one day lead me down a path of misery. I have found myself acting in ways quite unbecoming a lady of my station around you due to my stubbornness and feared my father was right; I worried that you could never feel for me the way I do for you."

Wondering if her words held deeper meaning, Eavan pulled her into his comforting embrace. Glancing around the trees to make sure they were alone, he leaned down to whisper into her petite pointed ear. "What little I have seen of your father during our peace talks and hearing you finally speak of him, I know not how you could believe a single word he says." Feeling her stiffen slightly in his arms, he pulled away enough that he could look once more into her alluring emerald eyes. "It has become obvious to me, that your father does not understand the treasure he truly has in you. The name 'Superior' suits him nicely, as he has failed to recognize the worth of those around him, especially that of the one person who should truly matter in his life.

"Iliana, you are truly the most remarkable woman I have ever met. You have such a goodness and kindness about you that all who come into contact with you are forever blessed. I have been amazed at the love you have inspired in those gathered here this week. While you may claim that any woman could accomplish the same, I disagree. It is your differences that set you apart from all others and allow you to accomplish what others can never do. It was your stubbornness as you call it that first recommended you to me. My entire life I have been pandered to by women wishing to obtain me as their prize. You saw me as the flawed being that I am and that is a favor for which I can never repay you."

Squirming uncomfortably under his ardent gaze, she looked away. "I insulted you, milord. I made fun at your expense. It is I who should owe you a debt of gratitude for having overlooked my offenses. Your father last evening confirmed my suspicion that you are slow to forgive others."

"While my father speaks true, there has been nothing between us for which you had need to atone for. From the very beginning, I was the one who insulted you. Everything you have said to me in anger was done out of defense against my attacks. Of all the women in this world, you are the only one who has seen me as merely Eavan; all the others can see is an heir to the greatest power on earth."

Gasping, Iliana looked up into his blue eyes. "Eavan, lest you think ill of me, I can assure you that I knew nothing more than that you were son of Adair, Prince of the fairies. Until last evening I was unaware..."

Chuckling, Eavan quickly placed his forefinger against her lips to silence her. Momentarily distracted by the softness of her lips, he forced his eyes back to hers and away from the greatest temptation he had ever faced. "Fear not, my dearest Ellette. My father informed me last evening of his stroll with you. That he has confided in you our greatest secret is of great comfort to me." Seeing the relief in her eyes furthered his admiration for her and he felt the last barriers around his heart give way. He knew then that he could love no other, yet he still feared that they could never be.

Wishing to once again bring back the mischief in her eyes that was present when she first met him that morning, he released her from his arms, stepped back and closed his eyes. With a hand outstretched he said, "Perhaps now, My Lady, you would be gracious as to continue to lead me in a blind manner towards the spring."

Hearing her pleased laughter and the pressure of her fingers around his, he fought against the smile that threatened upon hearing her reply. "Our destination was to remain a surprise for you, milord."

"It is not my fault that I know these woods and meadows so well, Ellette. A fairy does not require eyes to hear the music of the earth surrounding him."

"Very well. We are indeed heading towards the spring." As he began to open his eyes in victory, he was amused to find her quickly reaching up to once again cover them. "While you may now know our destination, I would beg of you to not peek as all is not ready for your arrival, milord. You must trust me in this."

Pulling her hand holding his towards him, he once more kissed her knuckles before bowing mockingly. "I am your servant, My Lady. I shall do as you bid."

Following the gentle pull of her hand and whisper of her laughter, he allowed her to lead him towards the spring. Upon their arrival, he was amazed to discover all in eerie silence; everything about the area seemed out of place. About to open his eyes in concern, he was arrested by her stern reminder to trust her.

With a gentle hand, she helped him to sit upon a rock before releasing his hand and walking away.

"I once again need your assurance, milord, that you trust me and as such will keep your eyes closed until instructed to open."

Nodding, he settled into his seat awaiting whatever it was she had in store for him. Suddenly, a soft sound was heard from near the water. It was a note of sadness and loneliness, the feeling it evoked in him one of great discomfort. As he listened to the quiet melody, he heard other voices join in.

Eventually the song of sadness was interrupted by notes of celebration before being joined by a new melody full of confrontation. As the confrontation grew, the sadness changed to include more anger. Eventually the confrontation won out before changing to one of great amusement as it faded leaving the sadness behind it.

As the sad melody continued on its way, notes of danger joined in. Fighting against the danger, the confrontation soon returned, and began to work in tandem with the sadness, both changing to tunes of hesitant companionship.

Amazed, Eavan was barely able to breathe as he heard the story of his friendship with Iliana played out in song. As the notes of sadness and confrontation gave way to more pleasing melodies of friendship and camaraderie, he felt a joy like nothing he had felt before spread throughout his entire being.

As the song grew in volume with the light of the dawning sun, Eavan found himself being drawn from his perch towards the source of the music. Struggling to keep his eyes closed, he carefully stepped forward until he could feel the air surrounding her changing in time to the movements of her arms. Reaching out, he grasped her waist and pulled her against him as the music culminated into a final chord of pure joy and happiness.

Feeling her arms drop to her sides as she turned in his embrace, he hesitatingly opened his eyes. Standing before him, she was bathed from behind in the glow of the rising sun, her eyes shining with great emotion. "Happy Birthday, milord," she said with a shy smile as she looked down towards the ground. Following her gaze, he stumbled backwards in surprise at what he saw.

All around him, the ground was blanketed in the most exquisite flowers he had ever beheld. With petals displaying a wide variety of colors from the deepest blue to the darkest red and the sweetest most intoxicating scent, Eavan was unable to find a defining feature in the flower to which to compare them to another. They were truly the most remarkable and unique species he had ever seen.

Looking up at her, he was unable to form any words to express his delight. Unused to being unable to read his features, she was unsure how to interpret his silence. "I am sorry if they are not to your liking, milord. I knew not how they would turn out, yet I see now perhaps my ambition was too great," she said as she began to turn away from him.

Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed her hand. "You truly did all this, for me?" He asked. Seeing her uncertain nod he gently pulled her slightly closer. "Why?"

Biting her lip, she refused to meet his eyes as she gazed at the flowers around her. "I wished to give my closest friend a gift on this day of his birth in appreciation for all that he has done and means to me. Your father provided me with pure blank seeds that I could then influence to my will. You taught me to listen to the music of the earth and draw out the parts I wished to share with the world. Well I wish the world to know how much I lo...care for you and your friendship. What better way than to lead a song that tells of our journey to this point."

"It was the most beautiful song I have ever heard, Iliana, and the flowers are the second most beautiful thing I have ever beheld." Reaching out with his other hand, he gently cupped her chin and lifted her face so that he could see her eyes. "What shall you name them?"

"I was thinking 'Eavan's dawn' as they were born with the solstice's dawn much as you were." Swallowing her sudden emotions, she struggled to maintain his gaze. "Your father informed me that if I succeeded then these flowers would forever bloom as long as our friendship remains strong."

"Wonderful. They shall then bloom forever more. However, while I thank you for the great honor you have bestowed upon me, I do not believe the name you have chosen serves these incredible flowers justice." Pulling her even closer until he could feel her breath upon his neck, he licked his suddenly dry lips. Seeing her eyes drawn by his action, he let out a loose chuckle when she asked what name he had in mind. "I do believe 'Iliana's Kiss' to be perfect."

Before she could respond, he leaned in and claimed her lips with his own. Shocked at first, she resisted for less than two seconds before she willingly gave in to the burning emotions inside her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer as he deepened the kiss. Lost in their sudden passion, Eavan forgot about his scruples regarding a marriage to her and allowed his love for the woman in his arms to burst forth from his heart.

While the two friends rejoiced in their newly discovered shared love, they failed to realize that they were being carefully watched. Five pairs of eyes watched the couple from various trees surrounding the spring. While three of the watchers felt great relief and happiness in the joy radiating from the couple, two watched with barely restrained fury and envy. However, as they walked away from the spring, the two realized that they had unwittingly stumbled across the opportunity they had waited for for so long. _They were determined to at last achieve what they most desired._

.

.

.

"I need to know exactly what the gentleman said, Georgiana."

Looking across his desk towards his younger sister, Darcy saw tears beginning to form in her soft grey eyes. Standing abruptly, he stood up and walked around the desk so that he could pull the young woman into his arms.

"Oh my dearest, you have done no wrong. I am not angry with you for conversing with a man who claimed an acquaintance with me; how would you have known him to be honest or not. While I do not recognize the man you describe, I feel as though I must see him to remember. Yet his identity is not what concerns me. I simply wish to know what story he told you as I believe he was using you to deliver a message to me."

Hoping that the words he spoke would reassure and calm his sister, he was surprised when she began to weep openly. Gently leading her to the sofa by the fire, he pulled her down next to him and allowed her to cry into his shoulder.

"William, I have done you great wrong. First I believed Wickham's lies then allowed myself to fall prey to a man who wishes to use me for his own purposes."

"Dearest, I do not fault you for either instance. There are many men out there who know how to take advantage of even the most experienced of women. You are in no wise to blame for having such a gentle heart and kind spirit," he reassured her as he stroked her back. "This man who gave you the flower did not wish you harm. What his exact intentions are, I am unsure, yet I feel as though if he could have come to me he would have. He needed to deliver a message I would understand, and as such approached you in my place. If anyone is to blame it shall be me. I have once again failed you, Georgiana. I should have been here to protect you." Feeling his heart break slightly with his words, he hoped his falsehood would be enough to restore Georgiana's faith in herself enough to allow her to share any information she might have.

"You have nothing to apologize for, brother, yet I see the wisdom in your words." Pulling herself out of his embrace, Georgiana wiped her tears from her face and sat up straight. "He told me a story about a young couple who were in love." Hearing Darcy's sharp intake of breath, she looked up at him to see an expectant expression cross his face. Cocking her head, she watched as his eyes changed to a light blue full of pain as she continued her tale.

"The couple had overcome many trials and personal prejudices on their journey to happiness. So deep was their love, that on the morning they finally declared themselves to each other a grove of flowers appeared around them. These flowers were the ultimate symbol of their love. Despite their wishes to marry, there were those who tried to keep them apart. One day he entered their grove to discover the flowers were dying. Worried for his lady love, he left to go find her, but when he finally discovered her he was too late. In his misery, he took his own life.

"With his death, the dying flowers were revived; the couple were together once more and the flowers have continued to bloom in their grove ever since under the care of the couples loved ones. But the old man told me that the flowers are beginning to die. He said that although he believes their love to be as strong as ever, those caring for the grove will not be able to maintain it much longer. As such, he wished to give of their love to as many as possible before the flowers disappeared forever."

Standing abruptly, Darcy began to pace as he attempted to understand the message. Confused by her brother's reactions to a simple story, she asked if he believed the story to be true. With a harsh chuckle he insisted that while many aspects may be based in some truth, not all could be believed. With a nod, she asked if there was anything else he required.

Seeing the hurt in her eyes, Darcy paused in his pacing to draw her once more into his embrace. "I thank you Georgiana for sharing this with me. I know that while I may seem distracted, I would hope you know that your happiness and comfort is of great importance to me."

"I understand William, and I am sorry it was my actions that drew you back home sooner than you had planned."

Kissing her forehead, he assured her that he was happy to attend her at any time. As she began to reach for the flower she had brought him earlier, he stopped her and asked if he might be allowed to keep it. Smiling, she agreed saying that since she now knew it to be a message for him, she had no claim to it. "It truly is a remarkable flower, William. I have never seen the like nor can compare it to any other. Yet, I do not care for the feelings it evoked in me. It seems to have some strange power over those in possession of it. Promise you will be careful brother."

Giving her his word, Darcy watched as she left his study leaving him alone. Immediately he removed his coat and cravat as he continued to pace the room. While some of the old man's tale had held truth, the majority was mere misrepresentation of the true facts.

Shaking his head, he carefully considered the last part of the story. Their flowers were dying because those who watched over them would soon be unable to do fulfill their duties. While the story gave no indication of the man's identity, Darcy no longer doubted that they were in great danger. Those who had spent years supporting him and Iliana were either losing the battle against their oppressors, and as such, would no longer be able to protect the two of them.

Walking over to his desk, Darcy collapsed in his chair as he picked up the 'Iliana's Kiss' twirling it reverently in between his fingers. Tears falling freely down his face, he realized that he must stay away from Miss Elizabeth for the time being though he hoped their separation would not be long as the message in the story was clear; this was their last chance to break the curse.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"William, is everything okay?"

Looking over his shoulder, he saw Georgiana had entered his study. He had not realized he had been so distracted, yet he saw great concern on her face. She must have entered some time ago and tried to obtain his attention.

Turning from the window, Darcy motioned for her to join him on the sofa near the fire. Sitting down beside her, he took her small hands in his own large ones caressing her knuckles with his thumbs.

"William?"

"Forgive me dearest for my somber moods these past months. I find myself quite occupied with estate matters."

Raising her brows in disbelief, Georgiana carefully studied her brother. She knew he had spent much less time out on the estate than he normally did, and when in company spoke less than was his wont. Ever since he had returned from Hertfordshire, he had changed.

"I do not believe you, brother. You spend the majority of your days either holed up in your study staring out that window or disappearing for hours on walks in the woods. Will you not tell me what it is that has you so burdened?"

Bowing his head to hide the pain, Darcy stared down at their joined hands. "I cannot."

Yanking her hands from his and ignoring his shocked face, Georgiana stood from the sofa and faced her brother placing her hands on her hips. "Well then what do you expect me to do William? You are not the only one who has been suffering. How am I to act when you cannot stand to be in the same room as me? I know I have disappointed you brother, yet I cannot move forward when you refuse to let me forget the pain I have caused you."

"Is that truly what you believe Georgiana?" Darcy asked as he stared at his sister in horror.

"You have given me no reason to suppose otherwise," she stated as tears filled her eyes.

"Oh! my dearest." Georgiana stood shocked as Darcy covered his face with his hands and placing his elbows on his knees began to sob. All the anger she had felt towards him in the weeks he had been ignoring her dissipated as she watched her brother express his grief. Carefully she sat down again beside him and gently draped her arm across his shoulders.

"William, will you please tell me? It pains me to see you so but I cannot help what I do not know."

After his tears had abated, he sat up again and turned to face the concerned face of his sister. Reaching up, he gently brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. As she offered him a hesitant smile, he felt his own mouth turn up slightly at the corner. For the first time ever, he felt a true love for someone besides Iliana. While he had often been blessed with loving families during his lives, he had never felt for another being as he did for Georgiana.

Over the past five years, she had been his support and comfort whenever he began to despair of ever finding Iliana. Now that he had found Miss Elizabeth and had been forced to leave her to protect her, he found himself unable to turn to the only other person who could offer him love and comfort. Instead, he had caused her an undeniable amount of pain as she blamed herself for their present predicament.

"Oh dearest, please do not distress yourself," he said in a hoarse voice. Taking a deep breath he leaned back against the sofa and ran his fingers through his hair. "Georgiana, I know not what to say."

The utter despair in his voice caused her heart to break for him. "You could tell me what I may do to restore your trust in me. I do not like being the cause of your discontent."

Breaking out in a manic laugh, Darcy let his gaze wander over to the desk where the flower that was given to his sister lay. As his eyes caressed the flower lovingly, he addressed his sister. "You are in no wise to be blamed my dear. I never lost my trust in you; it is others I cannot trust."

Georgiana had not failed to see the direction of his gaze and her anger towards him and his callous attitude returned in full force. "Humph. Well the way I see it brother, you have allowed your anger towards others to cloud your judgment, and I believe I know why." Standing up she strode towards the desk and grasped the flower. From the corner of her eye, she saw her brother start and watch her carefully. Ignoring the feelings the flower evoked in her, she walked towards the fireplace.

"Georgiana! No!" Arrested by the harsh tones of his voice, she turned wide eyes upon her brother who stood towering over her with a dark look. Never had he spoken to her in such a manner and she found herself terrified of her brother for the first time. With a shaking hand, she placed the flower upon his outstretched palm and watched as he reverently placed it back upon his desk. "Leave me," was the quiet demand as he refused to face her.

"No," came her trembling reply.

"No?" He asked in a dangerous voice. Turning towards her, a grimace upon his face, he took a step closer to her. Frightened, she took a step back in an attempt to keep the distance between them.

"No, Fitzwilliam. I will not leave." It was the first time she had used his full name and she saw the immediate effect it had on him as he stopped his advance in shock. Their mother had been delighted to give up her maiden name when she married their father. Upon hearing George Darcy's insistence that they honor her family by gifting their son with the name, she had rebelled and refused to call him anything but William. It had always been a sore subject between the two as he insisted that shortening a person's name was nothing less than improper of a person befitting his station. After Anne Darcy's death, their father had capitulated and began to call him William as well in remembrance of his beloved wife. As such, the only ones to call him Fitzwilliam were the servants and their Aunt Catherine.

"Why?" He asked and she heard the pain behind the anger. It was his pain that gave her the courage to continue.

"Because you are not well brother and need my help. That flower is dangerous and you know it; that is why you removed it from my own person. You promised when I left it in your possession back in London that you would be careful with it. Yet you brought it here to Pemberley with you and there it sits, day after day, needing neither water nor sun and never wilting. And look what it has done to you; you barely eat nor sleep, you never spend time with others, and you have begun to neglect both your business and me." By the end of her tirade, Georgiana was surprised to discover that she was yelling at her brother. Suddenly feeling faint, she collapsed on the sofa and attempted to regulate her breathing.

Darcy stood there watching his sister fight against her own emotions. Although angry with her for her attempt to destroy _their_ flower, he admired her for refusing to give into his irrational demands.

"Georgiana, you are right, and I should confide in you; but you could not understand."

"You still think me a child then."

"No dearest, I do not; especially after your display today. A child would have thrown a tantrum; you stood your ground and spoke with determination out of love. While others may misconstrue your intentions, I see them for what they are and can only apologize for my own behavior towards you. You should never have needed to reprimand your elder brother so."

Looking down guiltily at her hands, she said, "It was not my place to do so, William. I should not have said what I did. You did not deserve it."

"But I did." Suddenly she found him kneeling in front of her using his forefinger to gently raise her chin. "I am glad that you said what you did." Giving her a sad smile, he kissed her forehead before standing to walk towards the window once more.

Georgiana, thinking that he was once again attempting to dismiss her went to stand up when she heard him speak in a barely audible voice. "I am lost, dearest. I have always had a purpose in life and a way to succeed until now."

Confused she shook her head. "I do not understand William. How is it that you feel as though you no longer have a purpose? Look around you brother. You have an entire estate to run as well as many business ventures. And me; do I no longer matter to you?"

Hearing the hurt in her voice, his shoulders slumped in dejection. "Of course you matter dearest. I would not be here if you did not."

"But you do not want to be here with me, do you?"

"Would you believe me if I honestly told you that how I feel has absolutely nothing to do with you?" Hearing her answer in the expected negative, he raised an arm to lean against the window frame. "Georgiana, why do you believe that flower to be dangerous?"

Surprised by the question, she informed him that she needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Finally she said, "Whenever I touch it, I feel...I feel as though I am torn between reliving my happiest moments in life as well as my darkest. I cannot focus on one or the other until they become merged into one thought, one event. I feel as though I am going mad."

Nodding his head Darcy finally turned from the window and walked over towards the desk to touch the flower. "I experience the same, but my happiest moments are also my darkest. You are lucky that yours are separate events; I cannot say the same. Every happy moment is tied to one of misery, pain and sadness."

"How is that possible, William?"

"How do you feel when you think of our father?" He asked meeting her eyes.

"I feel sad."

"Yes. But we had so many wonderful times with him; surely there must be memories that evoke happiness."

"Of course there are many such memories, but those are the saddest as I can never again share moments like those with him." Seeing Darcy watching her expectantly, comprehension suddenly dawned on her. A soft oh was all she could muster in light of her understanding. Carefully studying her brother, she saw a look of longing cross his face as he lifted the flower to his face and inhaled deeply.

"Why do you insist on keeping the flower if it brings you nothing but pain?"

"Because it also brings me hope," he answered without pause. "As long as this flower continues to keep its bloom, I have cause to never doubt that those dark moments may one day become nothing more than a distant memory."

"William, what could have caused you such pain? If it is the loss of our parents, perhaps I can help. Mrs. Annesley has allowed me to see that by keeping our pain to ourselves we only bring more pain. Only in sharing with one who cares about us can we be relieved of our burdens."

"Mrs. Annesley is very wise dearest, and I am pleased to know you have been listening to her. But I am afraid I cannot accept your assistance. It would be impossible for you to understand."

Offering a smile, she held out her hand towards him and said, "whether or not I understand is of no importance. What matters is that you not suffer alone."

Still holding the flower in one hand, he stepped forward to take her outstretched one. "When did you become such a wise young woman, dearest one?" Seeing her blush at his compliment, he offered a smile as he once again took the seat next to her. "Do you remember the story you were told when given the flower?"

"Of course I do, brother. It was the sweetest love story I have ever heard, not one anybody would be likely to forget."

"Indeed not. Well, I had heard the story before. Would you be willing to hear my version?"

"If you believe it necessary," she offered.

"I do." Taking a deep breath, he released her hand and cupping the flower in both hands began his tale.

"Many centuries ago there was a fairy prince. Tall, handsome in his fair looks, and heir to the most powerful magical being in the world, he was pursued by many who wished to gain his favor. When young, he had finally given his favor to a young woman who then betrayed him alongside his closest friend. From that moment on, he was unable to trust anyone and soon became prideful of his position in life.

"One day, many years later, he met an elfish woman. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, yet she was not awed by his status. Angry that she would not offer him the respect he felt he deserved, he mocked and insulted her. As a result, she punished him and proved that she could outwit him. When they parted ways, he was determined to hate her forever.

"Shortly after this first meeting, they met again and were forced to help each other as they found themselves stranded in a storm. While they waited the storm out, they began to learn more about each other and parted under better terms.

"For months afterwards, they continued to meet in secret as a steady friendship developed between them. Although most of their meetings were pleasant, he still allowed his pride to occasionally get the better of him. But overall, he slowly felt himself losing his heart to her.

"After more than two years had passed, it was discovered that there were those who were secretly plotting against the fairies, wanting to steal the king's power for themselves. They stirred up trouble amongst all the many races and soon war was threatened in the magical realms. In an effort to keep the peace, the fairy king invited the rulers of the many races to their most sacred event during which time many peace treaties were drawn up.

"It was during this time that the prince discovered his elfish friend was in fact royalty herself. So angry that she had kept this knowledge from him, he realized for the first time that he had fallen hopelessly in love with her. Over the course of the celebrations and peace talks, they spent much of their time together and eventually declared their love for each other.

"This flower that you see here was indeed one of the flowers that grew around them that glorious day. Their love had created a magic that was so powerful and unique that these flowers would forever bloom as long as they loved each other."

As Darcy paused in his telling, Georgiana looked up into his eyes incredulous that he would believe such a tale. She was then quite surprised to discover that his tear filled eyes had turned to a dark blue with silver specks that gave the appearance of a starry night sky. As he wiped away a tear, she watched amazed as the specks disappeared and his eyes turned an icy blue instead.

Not having noticed his sister's observations, Darcy continued. "Against her better judgment, the prince convinced her to keep their love a secret much as they had done thus far with their friendship. He was worried that if those who wished to start a war found out about the two of them, they could use her as a weapon against the fairies. Ironically, it was because they kept their love a secret that their enemies were able to do that which he most feared. When the prince discovered that they knew about his love for the woman, it was too late. In an attempt to use her against him, war broke out and they both lost their lives."

"So, he did not take his own life?" Georgiana asked.

"Some say he did, others say he was killed defending her body."

"What do you think brother?"

Not wishing to dwell on the painful events of that day, he disregarded her question and continued. "Legend has it that the war continues today unbeknownst to us mortals, and that the young couple is now a pair of lost souls searching for each other, and that when they are finally joined together, the war will end. That the old man believes the flowers are dying can only signify that those who are protecting the couple's lost souls are losing the war and that their chance of finding each other is greatly diminishing. Whether this was told in warning or as a threat I cannot say without knowing the identity of the man."

"Do you...do you believe the story to be true?" Georgiana asked suddenly fearful for her brother's sanity after hearing him mumble the last sentence.

"It matters not whether I believe it to be true. Before us we have the flower described in the legend. Have you ever seen a flower with which to even compare this one to? It is nothing like anything else I ever have or will ever see. And the feelings we both feel; what kind of flower could influence us in such a matter without magic?"

"I agree, William, but surely you cannot believe in magic."

"Who is to say that there is no such thing as magic? You have heard the tales of King Arthur. His greatest ally and adviser was a renowned sorcerer and together they fought against druids, sorceresses and many other magical creatures. What truly matters in this story is the love that this couple shared. Ever since I have known of the story, I have wanted to find such a love for myself. Think of all the similarities between myself and the prince. He was pursued by many because of his power and I am pursued by many because of my wealth and status. I do not wish to be sought after because of what I am, rather, I wish to be loved for who I am."

"William, I know of no other who is more deserving of such a love. I am sure you will find your own elfish princess one day," Georgiana said as she gently laid a hand on his arm.

"I already have," he replied.

Ignoring the pain and longing in his voice, Georgiana felt a surge of excitement. Having never known her mother, she had always longed for a sister instead. To hear her brother mention a woman for the first time in her remembrance was to her cause for celebration.

Seeing his sister's excitement, however, only increased his own despair. "She does not care for me, dearest. You might say she quite despises me."

"How could anyone despise you? You are the kindest soul I know, loved by all your servants, tenants and neighbors."

"Unfortunately I also have many flaws, dear sister, to which you have blinded yourself. She had no such scruples." Seeing his sister's confused face, Darcy heaved a large sigh. "I confess that upon first meeting her in Hertfordshire, I did not give her proper consideration and insulted her. Despite my attempts to rectify my mistake, she continues to think ill of me."

"But how could she rebuff your attempts at atonement?"

"I was very cruel, my dear, and I fear she has had outside influence in regards to her opinion of me. But I wish nothing more than to gain her favor."

"Then why do you remain here, brother? Go to her, woo her and prove that you are a man worth knowing and loving. I am much improved, and now that I no longer believe my past actions to be the cause of your distress, have no need of you here at Pemberley."

Smiling at his sister, he saw such hope in her eyes and allowed that hope to bolster his own. "I have tried to leave dearest, hence my despair. Every time I have attempted to return to Hertfordshire, I am detained. First the carriage wheel broke, the horses went lame, the Miller's home burned down, and then a band of highwaymen entered the area. As much as I wish to win her heart, I cannot leave my duties unattended. Also, winter has lingered much longer this year than is normal, and as such it would not be advisable to travel far. I am afraid you will just have to deal with your dreary brother until my Easter trip to Kent later this month."

"Very well; I suppose I will just have to do what I can in the meantime to improve your spirits." Pausing, she considered her brother carefully, and then hesitantly asked if he would make her a solemn promise. Agreeing, he waited as she bit her lip in uncertainty. "Will you promise to seek her out after Easter brother? And until then, I do not wish for you to dwell on thoughts that might further depress you."

Forcing a smile upon his face, he nodded. "Indeed I will. You were correct, Georgiana; all I had to do was share my burden with another to improve my spirits." Seeing her relief and gratitude he chuckled and looked down towards his hands. With a heartfelt pain he decided that to further ease her concern he needed to part with _their_ flower. "Now what do you say we ask Mrs. Reynolds to take this flower and place it in a vase somewhere. I would hate to dispose of something so beautiful and unique no matter what pain it has caused us."

Face lighting with enthusiasm, Georgiana agreed saying it was a wonderful idea. "Would the table beneath mother and father's portraits in the gallery suit, William?" She asked. "After all, according to legend this is a flower that represents great love, and from what you have told me of our parents, theirs was indeed a great love."

Smiling, Darcy agreed that it was indeed a perfect home for the flower even though the thought of not having it with him at all times tore at his heart. Hiding his great reluctance, he handed the 'Iliana's Kiss' to his sister and watched as she left the room in search of Mrs. Reynolds.

He was at least comforted by the thought that although he could not keep watch on the flower personally, it would remain under the constant gaze of his own portrait which hung directly across the gallery from those of his parents.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Darcy stared at the card in his hand. Confused he looked up to his butler. "And you say Mr. Bingley is accompanied by his sister?"

Nodding his head, the butler said, "Actually, sir, I would say Miss Bingley is accompanied by her brother as she came to call upon Miss Darcy. Mr. Bingley however expressed a desire to see you sir."

Knotting his brows in even greater confusion he waved the man away. "Send him in then, Harris. And do make sure Miss Darcy is not left alone with Miss Bingley; I will not have that woman distress my sister again. We do not need a repeat of her last visit."

Hiding a grin of amusement, the butler bowed as he left the room giving Darcy time to compose himself. Curious as to Bingley's presence in town, he began to feel a sense of dread. That feeling increased as his friend entered his study with far less merriment than was his wont.

Standing to shake his friend's hand, Darcy eyed him with concern. "Bingley, I must say this is quite the surprise. I had not expected you to be in town."

"Yes, well, here I am," he said with great hesitation.

Motioning to a seat, Darcy watched as his friend refused to meet his eye. "Will you not sit down, Charles?"

"Thank you, Darcy."

For several uncomfortable minutes the two sat in silence. Darcy offered his guest a drink but Bingley refused and continued to sit and stare at the wall just behind him. Not wanting to be the first to speak as Bingley had called upon him, he began to tap his fingers upon the armrests of his chair. At his movements, Bingley finally glanced up at his friends face to see Darcy's brow raised in expectation. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Bingley began to speak.

"I understood you to have suffered a harsher winter this year than normal."

Disgusted that out of all the issues to be discussed between them, Bingley chose the weather, Darcy rolled his eyes before replying. "Indeed we did as I mentioned in my letters; although I was surprised to find the season was very mild in other parts of the country." In fact, Darcy was not surprised. As soon as they left Derbyshire on their way to London, he and his sister were greeted with a spring that was already well underway. Frustrated that he had been kept a prisoner of sorts at Pemberley in an attempt to keep him away from Miss Elizabeth, Darcy had an even greater desire than before to discover who was interfering in his life.

"Yes quite," Bingley said. "From what I understand, Derbyshire was the only county to be thus affected. Rather unfortunate for you I dare say. Thank goodness Pemberley has many comforts to offer no matter the season."

"Yes," Darcy said. "Although I am afraid that I was unable to attend too much of my business as the post was often delayed. I assume this is why I never received a reply to any of my letters." Watching his friend squirm under his harsh gaze, he continued. "It is also quite possible that they were lost seeing as they were all sent to Netherfield."

"I...I umm..." Bingley stuttered, "I am afraid that I have not been to Netherfield recently so yes, it is quite possible."

"You are a terrible liar, Bingley."

Eyes wide, Bingley looked up at his friend and swallowed loudly. "I am telling you the truth Darcy; I have not been to Netherfield for some time."

"That much is obvious, yet you are still lying."

Face red with anger, Bingley leaned forward in his seat. "I do not appreciate your accusations, Darcy. If you continue to abuse me so then I see no need to continue this conversation."

"I agree, Charles," Darcy replied nonchalantly. "If you so wish, the door is located just there behind you," he said pointing towards the door. Upon seeing the surprise on Bingley's face he continued with a smirk. "Perhaps you have forgotten that you were the one who called on me."

"I...no...I mean..." sighing, Bingley fell back into his chair with his head bowed.

Settling further into his own chair, Darcy clasped his hands together and rested them across his stomach as he waited. Throughout the months he had been exiled in Derbyshire, he had written faithfully to his friend every other week with the hope of hearing any news regarding Miss Elizabeth. He had been quite disappointed when the New Year arrived without a single reply. As January and February also passed without word from Bingley, Darcy began to grow quite angry with his friend. To arrive in town and discover Bingley had wintered in London only increased his anger.

"I...I did not know what to say," Bingley whispered towards his lap.

"Why are you in London, Charles?" Darcy asked frustration evident in his voice.

"I cannot return, Darcy. Not now."

Disregarding the despair in Bingley's voice, Darcy simply sneered at his friend. "Why ever not?"

"How could I Darcy? There is nothing for me there but an empty house filled with painful reminders. Caroline, Louisa and Hurst joined me in town a day or two after you left for Pemberley and we plan to stay through the season."

"Last time we spoke you said that you were anxious to return. You are telling me now that you never returned?" Darcy asked struggling to hide his apprehension.

"Indeed I have not, nor do I plan to. I am considering giving up my lease on the place."

"But why? I do not understand; I thought you were prepared to offer for Miss Bennet."

"Miss Bennet? ha!" Bingley scoffed, the look in his eyes causing Darcy to fear slightly for his friend's sanity. "I should be congratulated for my escape from the lady. It is only quite unfortunate that I should be unable to forget her."

"What...what do you have to accuse her of Charles?" Darcy asked hesitantly. He had been relying on Bingley marrying Miss Bennet to secure the happiness and well being of the family should the worst happen to him and Miss Elizabeth. However, if Charles had left her behind with a broken heart, he feared not only losing any opportunity of finding himself in Miss Elizabeth's company again, but that she might construe Bingley's actions to have been influenced by him. He had just barely begun to improve her opinion of him, and he was sure to have lost it once more. He did not doubt that whoever influenced her before would not hesitate to convince her of his own guilt in the affair.

"Why are you so concerned, Darcy? I know you all but gave me your blessing the last time we met, yet I would have thought you of all people would appreciate me not giving myself over to a woman based off of an infatuation. For years you have steered me away from women who have flattered me for my riches. Why have you changed your mind now?"

"I have not changed my mind; I simply do not see why you have left behind the one woman who was not after you for your money."

" _She_ may not have been after my money, but she does not love me," Bingley said as his shoulders slumped in despair.

"I have never heard such fustian nonsense before."

"How dare you mock my pain, Darcy!" In anger, Bingley stood and placed his hands on the desk between them as he leaned towards his friend. "You, who are sought after by every woman you meet, could know nothing of the pain I have suffered these past months. I loved her, and I thought she loved me; yet she does not. You cannot comprehend what I am suffering."

Struggling to not give into his own anger, Darcy looked up at his friend and forced himself to calmly reply. "You are wrong, Bingley. I am very much aware of what it feels like to love someone only to lose them. Nothing can ease the pain such a loss brings. You, however, have not lost anything besides your own confidence. I saw the way Miss Bennet looked at you; I wonder how you could not see her feelings."

"No Darcy. I saw them, and fool that I am believed her."

"Charles, why do you refuse to acknowledge what is right before you?"

"I have other knowledge Darcy that far outweighs what I wish to see." Despair once again replacing his anger, Bingley fell back into his chair. "Caroline and Louisa told me that they received a call from the Bennet ladies the morning you left Netherfield. They told me that the relief on Miss Bennet's face when she realized she would not have to endure my company during the visit was almost as disconcerting as Mrs. Bennet's attempts to begin redecorating the rooms. When asked if she cared for me, Miss Bennet replied that she found me to be nothing more than an amiable young man."

Darcy watched incredulous as Bingley told his tale. Supposedly, his sisters had left Netherfield to share their concerns with him as they did not desire to see their brother enter a marriage where his love was unrequited. Since their arrival in London, Miss Bingley had written twice to Miss Bennet, but both letters had gone unanswered.

"So you see, Darcy, I could not bear your disappointment. You had expressed such excitement at returning to Hertfordshire in your letters; I knew not how to tell you I no longer desire to return."

Darcy felt all his pent up anger and frustration give way as he listened to Bingley's words. Because of Bingley's cowardice, he felt his few last chances with Miss Elizabeth slip away. He knew not how he would be able to gain admittance into her society again without first confronting the being watching over her. While he had made much headway in repairing his reputation in the neighborhood at the ball, his own absence, alongside Bingley's, was sure to have reversed several of his efforts.

"You disgust me, Bingley," he said as he watched his friend's eyes widen in shock. "For years you have allowed your sisters to rule your life, and now, when you have finally found something worth standing up for, you allow them to once again ruin everything for you."

"Darcy, I..."

"I was not finished, Bingley," Darcy yelled as he stood from his chair. A slight twinge of remorse washed over him when he saw Bingley cringe away from him, but he quickly shoved it aside. "Are you so unsure of yourself that you refuse to see through their biggest lies yet?"

"Are you accusing my sisters of spreading falsehoods?" Bingley asked as he also stood up in anger.

"I am," Darcy said standing up taller as he wished to use his height to intimidate his friend. "The entire time we were in Hertfordshire, I listened to your sisters ridicule the Bennets and the society as a whole in every possible respect. Not once did they say anything nice beside that of calling Miss Bennet a sweet girl. Do you truly believe they would step aside and watch you marry a woman whose family and position in society they despised? They saw before them, a couple who were so obviously in love with each other yet stood in their way to attaining a higher social standing. As such, they have used your own lack of confidence against you."

"My sisters would never do such a thing, Darcy. They care for me and had no desire to see me hurt by that woman."

"' _That woman?'_ I am ashamed of you Bingley. You are blind to all that is around you. Where there is nothing but malice and spite in your life, you see love and caring. When you finally found love, you threw it away because your sisters claim she is not worthy of you. But they way I see it, you are not worthy of her."

Time seemed to slow as Bingley staggered back in pain. Eyes full of hurt and betrayal he turned and left Darcy's study without another word. Darcy listened as moments later Miss Bingley's shrill voice floated through the open door.

"But Charles," she whined, "Darling Georgiana and I were having such a wonderful time. And I have not had the chance to greet our dear Mr. Darcy. He would think me quite rude if I left without seeing him."

"That is enough Caroline! Darcy does not desire to see you now, and I do believe we are better off without his acquaintance."

Peals of "Charles how could you say such a thing" were lost as the front door was closed behind them. The house once again silent, Darcy picked up his forgotten glass of brandy, downed the contents in one swift gulp, then turned and threw it across the room to shatter in the fire as he let out a yell of frustration. As he watched the flames flare as they came into contact with a few drops of the liquid, he heard soft steps outside the study door.

"William?" Looking over, he saw Georgiana hesitantly take a step inside. "Would you care to explain what has just happened between you and Mr. Bingley to cause him to remove his sister in such a manner from our house?"

"What has happened is I have finally discovered how much of a fatwit* Mr. Bingley is," Darcy said with an angry snarl.

"William!" Shocked, Georgiana covered her mouth. Never before had she heard her brother use such coarse language as he always strove to be proper in all things. If the Bingley's departure had not concerned her, her brother's fierce mien and harsh words had. She was certain that some great calamity must have occurred between the two friends. "You must not say such things."

"Must I not? No Georgiana, you are wrong. Bingley is not deserving of your kindness or sympathy. I know I shall spare him none."

"But what has he done that has so angered you brother?"

"Done? Why he has done nothing and therein lays the problem!" Darcy yelled. "No...I am glad he has not returned, for she does not deserve a man like him."

"I should have known that a woman was involved by your tone," a pleasant voice sounded from the open doorway.

As both siblings turned to view the newcomer with surprise, they were greeted by the sight of a well dressed man eyeing Darcy with much amusement. Although slightly shorter and stockier than Darcy, the familial resemblance between the two was obvious. Both shared the same nose and chin as well as the same broad forehead. But where Darcy's was covered by his thick wavy dark hair, the other man's was framed by his straight light brown hair.

Letting out a squeal of excitement, Georgiana rushed towards the man who enthusiastically enveloped her in her arms. "Richard, I am so glad you are here!"

Chuckling, he placed a kiss on her forehead before looking up in time to see Darcy's sneer of annoyance. "I am pleased to be here as well, sweetheart, although I do not believe your brother would agree."

"On the contrary, cousin," Darcy smirked, "I should have known to expect you today rather than tomorrow as you said. You always have the unpleasant knack of showing up when it the least inconvenient for others."

"Oh Darcy, how you wound me," Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a hand over his heart as he mimicked a swoon.

"Must you always laugh at me?" Darcy snapped at him.

"I am afraid I must, for if I do not, there will be no one else to do it for you. Besides, while I myself am quite curious as to the Bingley's sudden departure, I do not believe you wish your entire household to hear your tirade." With a raised brow, Fitzwilliam made a show of closing the study door effectively shutting the three away from any prying ears.

Anger deflating in embarrassment, Darcy collapsed into his chair as he looked up towards his cousin and sister. "Thank you, Richard. You are, as always correct. And Georgiana, I am sorry that I was not more reserved in my outbursts around you."

Just as Georgiana was about to reply, her cousin grasped her hand and pulled her behind him as he walked towards the chairs in front of Darcy's desk. Plopping himself down in one of them, he motioned towards Georgiana to do the same before leaning forward in expectant excitement.

"There is no need for you to apologize. I am glad that you allowed your anger to get the best of you. I believe I have told you on many occasions that it would do Georgiana here much good to see a more human side of you."

"Richard..." Darcy growled in warning as he saw his sister blush in mortification.

"Oh no need to get yourself all in a miff," Fitzwilliam said as he brushed aside Darcy's menacing glare. "Now, I do believe you were about to tell us all about your conversation with Mr. Bingley." Leaning back, he crossed an ankle over one of his knees and settled his hands in his lap.

"I will do no such thing, Richard. It is of a most private business between the two of us."

"You cannot expect me to believe that now do you? If that was true then you would not have shouted so for all to hear. Besides, your conversation with Bingley deprived Georgiana here of her guest which, combined with your angry demeanor, has caused her much confusion and distress."

Eyes narrowed, Darcy glared at his cousin who sat there relishing in his victory. "While I do agree that you have made several wonderful points, I still fail to see why you are here."

Smiling mischievously, Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow and said, "As her other guardian, I have a right to know of anything that might cause her distress."

Defeated, Darcy shook his head in exasperation. "When exactly did you arrive, Richard? We had not expected you until tomorrow."

Rolling his eyes at Georgiana, he winked at her as she hid a smile behind her raised hand. "You have already notified me of my unwelcome early presence so there is no need to say it again. However, I was able to leave my duties a day early and decided that I could use an extra day of my lovely cousin's smiles to bolster me through our upcoming Easter pilgrimage." Pleased to hear Darcy's snort of agreement, Fitzwilliam continued. "I arrived here a little over half an hour ago when I was informed that you were with Mr. Bingley while his sister had cornered poor Georgiana in the drawing room. Unsure how I could rescue her without sacrificing myself, I saw myself up to my room to refresh myself. I was on my way down when I heard you yelling in here about her not being worthy."

Ignoring his sisters giggles in response to the description of Miss Bingley's visit, Darcy eyed his cousin carefully. "You heard nothing else?" Seeing him shake his head, Darcy continued. "While both Georgiana and I agree on your opinions of Miss Bingley, I see no reason to share my disagreements with her brother with the two of you. Suffice it to say that we argued and he left in anger no longer desiring my company. You should both be relieved to know that we shall not have to suffer through that woman's attentions for quite some time."

"Oh but William, Mr. Bingley's friendship means so much to you, you know I am always willing to keep Caroline busy while they are here," Georgiana said.

Admiring her sympathy, Darcy reached across the desk to grasp her outstretched hand. "Thank you, dearest. But I am afraid that Bingley will not forgive me for quite some time. I said many things for which he now despises me."

"Are any of them true?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"All of them, I fear," Darcy said as he dropped his sisters hand and sat back in his chair again. "I did not even tell him all I wished to. She truly does not deserve a man like that and I wish him to know it. He cannot control his own unruly family, how could he take on hers? No, despite what he wishes, I am glad he will not marry her."

Sharing amused glances, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were relieved that it was nothing more than a simple attempt to protect his friend and told him as much. Confused, Darcy watched the two of them leave the study. Thinking back on his words, he failed to see how they could have misunderstood him so. Shaking his head, he decided that their views on the subject mattered little so turned his attention once more to the business matters needing his attention before he left for Rosings.

.

.

.

Entering the park, Darcy took a deep breath of air. Although not as pure as the air found in the country, it was far improved over that of the city in general. Having been sequestered in his solicitors' office for the majority of the day, he was anxious for some fresh air and the chance to stretch his legs before spending the following morning cooped up in a carriage with his cousin.

As much as he loved Colonel Fitzwilliam, the man was far too jovial for his recent somber mood. Ever since discovering Bingley had not returned to Netherfield two days ago, Darcy had been unable to focus on anything besides his own disappointment and regret. He was angry with himself for having given in to the being watching them and leaving Miss Elizabeth behind. He should have left Georgiana to the care of their cousin and pursued her until she remembered him.

Pausing, Darcy looked around the park. It was the first time he had been there as he usually took to the paths at the park across from his townhouse or at Hyde Park. Pleased, he noticed that this particular park had less of the grandeur of the other two and more natural growth. While still planned, the paths were not as structured as they rose and fell with the lay of the land all while following the natural path of the trees. With a smile, he began to walk.

Before long, Darcy became lost in the beauty around him. Reaching out with his consciousness he could feel the many creatures as they mingled with the parks other attendees. He could also hear the joyful melodies of the many trees and flowers in bloom. A peaceful smile overcame his facade as he allowed himself to set aside the heartbreak of the last few months in the glow of newborn spring.

The sound of children's laughter nearby brought him out of his reverie. Letting his gaze wander towards the sound, he was arrested by the sight of a familiar figure. Confused yet delighted at her presence there, Darcy quickly strode towards her.

"Miss Bennet!" He called cheerfully as he drew near the young woman sitting next to a nursemaid.

Surprised at being addressed, the eldest Bennet sister turned to observe his approach and he saw a hesitant smile cross her face. Standing, she turned from her companion to offer him a curtsey. "Mr. Darcy, sir. What a surprise to see you here."

Sweeping her a deep bow, he looked into her face and offered a sincere smile. "Indeed I believe this to be a most fortunate happenstance. It is indeed a pleasure to see you again. Have you been long in London, Miss Bennet?"

Darcy did not miss the despondency that flashed in her eyes at his question. "I have been staying with my aunt and uncle since the new year, sir."

"And are you enjoying your stay?"

"I...I am, thank you. My cousins there have kept me quite active and entertained it would be hard to not enjoy their company," she said indicating the children playing in the grass. Darcy turned and watched their antics for a moment with a smile as he saw Miss Bennet eye him nervously from beneath lowered lashes. "I hope your sister is much recovered, sir. I understood her to be ill when you left Hertfordshire."

"I thank you; she is very well recovered now."

"There were many I believe who were quite surprised that you had not returned as you had said. Your company has been missed."

Eyeing her carefully, Darcy wondered if she was referring to the neighborhood in general or dare he hope she referred to her sister. "I was sorry I could not return. I am afraid the winter hit us quite hard in Derbyshire making travel ill advised. I have only just returned to town this week."

"Yes, I had heard of the unusual winter you had. I have been told that spring is only now beginning in that part of the country."

Cocking his head in surprise he asked, "You are familiar with Derbyshire, Miss Bennet?"

"No I am afraid I am not. My aunt, however, grew up in a small town called Lambton and keeps up many correspondences with her past acquaintances. Are you familiar with the town, sir?"

"I am indeed!" He said with great pleasure. "Lambton is but five miles from my estate and I have spent many happy summers running there and back."

Laughing at the idea of a young Darcy running, Miss Bennet offered up the first sincere smile he had seen from her that day. "I am happy to hear that, sir." Pausing, her face immediately fell again as she seemed hesitant to ask him what she wanted to know. Bolstering up her resolve, she squared her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Have you had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Bingley or his sisters since the fall, sir?"

"Only twice. I met with Mr. Bingley immediately after I returned from Hertfordshire to explain why I needed to remove my sister to Pemberley, and again once two days ago when his sister called upon mine. I do not believe we shall be much in company."

Concerned at the relief evident upon his face, Darcy could not help but inquire as to her own meetings with Bingley's sisters. "I understood you and your sisters to have called upon Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst the morning I left Netherfield. I am sorry to have missed you."

Brows knit in confusion, Miss Bennet stared up at him. "I know not of what you are referring to Mr. Darcy. My sisters and I never had the opportunity to call in thanks for the ball as I received a note from Miss Bingley saying that they would be wintering in London. I did call upon her shortly after arriving in town, and she reluctantly repaid me the call several weeks later. I have not seen nor communicated with her since."

Anger once again welling up within him, Darcy bit the inside of his cheek before forcing himself to reply calmly. "Is Mr. Bingley aware of your presence in town? I am sure he would have been delighted to have called upon a neighbor of his." Seeing her shake his head in despair, he saw in her the same heartbreak he had been feeling since leaving Hertfordshire.

"I know it is not appropriate for me to discuss such things with you Mr. Darcy, but I hope you will forgive me. Miss Bingley assured me that her brother knew of my being in town but was much engaged with you and your sister. While I have begun to believe that Miss Bingley was never truthful with me, I regret that I failed to convince my sister otherwise. She believes Miss Bingley's lies and blames you in part for Mr. Bingley's removal from Netherfield."

"And does she also blame me for your own heartbreak?" Looking up at him in shock, she saw concern and compassion instead of the anger she expected. Nodding yes, she looked towards the ground. "Miss Bennet, you have done no wrong. You must not blame yourself for the thoughts and opinions of others. I wish I could ease your suffering, but I fear Mr. Bingley and I did not depart on the best of terms the other day as he also believes his sisters' lies. If I could help him I would, but he will not accept me into his company at present."

"Mr. Darcy, you are too kind and I thank you. However, I am resolved to think of him no more. Perhaps we may meet again one day, but in the meantime, I believe I am better off without the attentions of such an inconsistent gentleman."

"You are very wise Miss Bennet and I wish you the best."

"Thank you, sir." At that moment one of her young cousins ran up to her to inform her that they wished to return home. Turning towards Darcy, she offered a tentative smile. "Would you care to join us for tea, Mr. Darcy? I am sure my aunt would be most happy to welcome one to her home who is familiar with Lambton."

Chuckling he said, "I thank you madam but I must decline until another time. My sister and cousin will be wondering where I am if I do not return soon, and then I must finish preparing for my trip into Kent in the morning."

Miss Bennet's eyes lit up with excitement as she heard of his destination. "Are you perchance going to visit your aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh?" Raising an eyebrow he confirmed that he was indeed. Pure happiness and joy bubbled up in his chest as he heard her laughing reply. "Well then, Mr. Darcy, I wish you a very pleasant journey. My sister Elizabeth has been staying with our cousin and his new wife, the former Miss Lucas, at Hunsford for the past fortnight and I believe has been much in company with your aunt. I sincerely hope you shall have the pleasure of her company often."

With a large smile, Darcy bowed over her hand. "I cannot thank you enough Miss Bennet. I shall indeed look forward to renewing my acquaintance with your sister. I wish you a very happy day."

After her brief curtsey and farewell, Darcy watched her help the nursemaid to gather up her cousins before walking away. Filled with renewed hope, Darcy turned and headed back in the direction he came. He was most anxious to return home in the hopes that the night would pass swiftly so that he could be soon reunited with his beloved Iliana once more.

* * *

*1800's slang for silly person or fool


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 _"Eavan..."_

 _"Hmm?"_

"What does it feel like?"

Chuckling, Eavan pulled her soft body closer to him as she lounged against his sitting form. In the three days since the solstice, they had met every morning at the spring an hour before dawn to watch the sun rising together amidst their flowers. In that time, they shared many of their concerns and desires and had grown much closer to each other. This morning they had found joy in their quiet solitude as they basked in each other's love.

Leaning down to nibble on her ear Eavan whispered hoarsely, "You will have to be more specific my love if you desire an answer."

"Hmm...Yes I suppose I will," she giggled in return as he nipped at her playfully. "Very well then; what does it feel like to be a fairy?"

Knitting his brows in thought, he lifted his head and watched her look away shyly. "I am unsure as to what you mean. I am sure it feels no different than being an elf."

Pulling away, she sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees as she pulled them up to her chest. Turning her head she looked at him, a faraway look in her eyes. "What I mean is, what does it feel like to change your size or to fly?"

Lifting one of his own knees up to lean on it, he considered her words carefully. By the way she refused to meet his eyes, he realized that it was a subject of great concern to her yet one in which she was embarrassed to ask about. Unsure why she desired to know, he reached out and grasped one of her hands refusing to let her pull it away. When she finally glanced into his eyes, he tried to let his love for her shine brighter than his confusion.

"I am not sure how to answer your questions for I have never given the matter much thought. To me, it is a natural part of life. Why do you wish to know?"

Eavan watched as a blush rose from her chest to cover her face. "It is of no matter. Forget that I have asked."

"Iliana, I can do no such thing." Seeing her distress, he quickly continued. "It clearly is a matter of great importance to you else you would not have asked me. You cannot expect me to neglect you in such a manner. Now, tell me why you wish to know, please."

"I cannot," she said as she buried her face in her knees.

Releasing her hand, Eavan leaned forward to gently grasp her face and lift it once more to his. He was shocked at the fear and uncertainty he saw there. "Why ever not?"

Shaking her head she spoke in a hushed voice. "You would think me quite foolish and presumptuous."

Chuckling softly, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "You forget, my Ellette, that I have already made that mistake. You have since taught me otherwise. Now that I know you and your true worth, I could never think the same again." Brushing away a stray tear, he allowed his eyes to caress her beautiful features. "Do not cry dearest. You have already overcome all my pride and arrogance to back out now. Because of you I have learned what love is, and I will not jeopardize that willingly. Now, I believe we agreed to share all our concerns with each other; pray, do not hold back from me now."

Offering up a hesitant smile of her own, Iliana nodded before taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Eavan, you know I love you right?" Seeing his nod, she took another deep breath before looking away. "You have in the past shared your concern regarding a friendship with an elf, and now I cannot help but wonder where our paths will lead us if we truly wish to further our relationship. If ever the worst should happen, you will succeed your father as king of the fairies. I would wish to be by your side if you will have me, but I am not a fairy. How...how can we have any other kind of relationship besides that as friends if I am nothing more than an elf?"

"Iliana..."

"Not only that," she continued disregarding his loving plea, "but you require an heir who is pure. I cannot give you that so I know you cannot have me and must one day marry another." Dejected, her tears began to fall freely again.

"So are you telling me that you wish to know what it is like to be a fairy out of jealousy for the woman you believe I should have by my side?" Upon seeing her confirming nod, he had to force down his sudden mirth. "Oh my dearest Ellette, you worry over nothing. There can never be another woman; there is only you. I cannot deny that I fought my attraction and growing love for you for so long, but as my father once told me, you cannot deny the heart what it truly wants."

Eyeing him disbelievingly, she attempted to brush away her tears with the back of her hand. "But how can you say that? One day, when I have failed in my duty to provide you with an heir, you may come to regret me."

"That will never happen, Iliana," he replied forcefully. "The only regret I have where you are concerned is the pain I see now upon your face. I know that I could never love another as I do you, and I will marry no other if you will not. I know now that what I thought I once felt for Keelia cannot even compare to what I feel for you. Every time I leave you, I feel as though I am leaving a part of myself behind. I have shared with you things I cannot share with others because you bring such a joy, warmth and comfort into my life. I count every minute I am apart from you and think of you constantly. If this is not the truest of love, then I have no desire to experience it."

As he finished his passionate speech, he saw that her tears of sorrow had turned to tears of joy. Without warning, he pulled her towards him so that he could express to her more fully with his lips his love for her. When he finally released her from his kiss, he was pleased to look down upon her eyes half closed in pleasure and her chest heaving with desire. "It matters not, my love, what you are; it is who you are that is of great import to me," he whispered, his voice husky with his own desire. "Besides, there are ways to secure the purity of any heirs we beget together."

Eyes suddenly wide, she pulled away as she looked at him with amazement and horror. "But to do that you would lose the ability to control raw magic. The responsibility that your father holds, and perhaps one day you as well, is very important. You must not do such for me; I cannot allow you to forsake your duty for me. Besides, how could you ask me to leave behind my own heritage?"

"I would do anything for you dearest, no matter what the cost to me. As for asking you to leave your heritage, do you still truly believe me so heartless as to do that?" Placing a forefinger upon her lips to halt her reply, he continued. "I fell in love with the most beautiful woman to have ever lived as it was her powers as an elf that caught me in her trap and showed me the errors of my way."

Joy burst from his chest as he heard her musical laughter. Clasping his hand in her own, she pulled it away from her mouth. "At last! I have wondered when I would finally see the abilities to please the ladies that milord has often boasted of." Giving into his own merriment, his deep baritone chuckle joined in with her own causing the many flowers surrounding them to dance.

Enjoying the pleasing notes of their flowers, Iliana cocked her head and considered the man in front of her. After several minutes of quiet contemplation she spoke. "While I do appreciate your assurances, I still fail to see how we can ever be together. I cannot allow you to give up your heritage, nor can I give up my own. In the event my cousin - who I hope you should one day soon meet as he was too young to attend this year's celebrations - shall die before he is of age or begets an heir, I shall inherit the throne from my aunt in his stead. To be honest, for years I feared that she would never bear a child of her own leaving me as her heir. Yet even still, I cannot abandon my own duties until I know his future is secured."

"I understand, my love, and admire you for your forbearance. However, you forget one crucial part of the story my father told you. The other four lost their powers because they bestowed the gift of magic upon the mortals from whom they were supposed to protect it. You are already gifted with magical powers thus the law given to the five would not be broken in bestowing extra gifts upon you."

Eavan watched as she considered all he had said. He saw with pleasure the realization that lit her eyes. "I...I could be blessed with extra abilities? You would not take away those that I already possess?" Seeing his nod, Iliana let out a squeal of delight as she wrapped her arms around him in a joyful embrace. "Oh Eavan, is it truly possible? Can I truly be both elf and fairy?"

Chuckling in amusement, he returned her embrace. Whispering in her ear he confirmed what she had said to be true. "Indeed it is so, my dear. My father and I discussed the subject the same night he talked with you. I believe that he knew, even before I could admit to myself, of my love for you as well as my concern regarding our separate races. He shared stories of other instances where he granted a person the gifts of another race for various reasons. I hope that this will be acceptable to you when the time comes?"

"Yes! Oh Eavan! Thank you my love!" _Kissing him in gratitude, the two soon became lost in their shared pleasure unaware of their silent observers_.

.

.

.

"Darcy! I say Darcy!"

Startled from his pleasant musings, Darcy looked across the carriage towards his amused cousin. Seeing Colonel Fitzwilliam burst into laughter at the wistful look upon his face, Darcy quickly schooled his features into that of a more serious nature before turning his attention towards the window.

"Come now, Darcy; there is no need to pretend to be affronted," Fitzwilliam chortled. "There is nothing wrong with imagining the pleasures of a woman."

Snarling, Darcy turned back to his cousin. "I would thank you Richard not to debase those of the fairer sex."

"And pray tell how am I debasing them?"

"By speaking of them in such a derogative manner."

"All I said Darcy was that there is nothing wrong with enjoying the pleasures of a woman," Fitzwilliam replied with a raised eyebrow. "I know I have said it before but I believe I must repeat myself; it would do you a world of good to know a woman. I believe you'll find it quite liberating. I know of several maids at Rosings who would suit you nicely."

"You disgust me Richard. I will do no such thing."

"And why ever not?"

Quickly losing patience with his cousin, Darcy turned once more to the window watching the lane pass by. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fitzwilliam lean forward expectantly. Sighing in resignation, Darcy said, "I refuse to bed any woman who is not my wife."

Quirking his head in contemplation, Fitzwilliam hesitantly asked "Have you _ever_ been with a woman?" Upon seeing Darcy shake his head, Fitzwilliam roared with laughter causing Darcy to wonder if his cousin had at last succumbed to madness. "So you are telling me," Fitzwilliam asked wiping away tears of mirth, "that all the rumors in London of the many widows and heiresses you have taken as your mistresses are false?"

"I know not what astonishes me more, cousin," Darcy said with a disapproving frown, "the fact that these rumors exist or that you believed be capable of such indiscretions."

"Indiscretions?" Fitzwilliam asked as his laughter grew. "Come now man! You are not married, so there is no reason why you should not have your fair share of enjoyments."

"I will not betray the one to whom my heart belongs to, Richard, and nothing you say will change my mind." Darcy immediately began berating himself for having spoken about Iliana when Fitzwilliam's laughter suddenly ceased.

"You are in love? The great Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley has found a woman to be his wife? No William, you must be in jest." When Darcy merely glanced at him with a look of hurt in his eyes, Fitzwilliam leaned back in his seat fully sober. "No, it cannot be. Who is she and why have you not told me before?"

"It is my own business Richard, nothing you need concern yourself with."

"Do not be so ridiculous William. I see the pain you wish to hide, and I do not like it. If there is one thing above anything else I have learned during my service in the King's Army, it is that the worst thing you can do to yourself is to keep silent. Tell me cousin."

Closing his eyes against the pain, Darcy pictured Miss Elizabeth standing in the lane as he rode away from her, hurt and confusion clearly written all over her face. "There is not much to tell that you would believe, cousin. Needless to say, for five years I have searched for her, and finally found her only to discover that she cares not for me."

"Not care for you?" Fitzwilliam asked in amusement. "You, the most eligible bachelor in all of England, and she cares not for you? Well if she cannot see your worth enough to set aside her own pride then she is not worthy of you."

Angry that Fitzwilliam would insult Miss Elizabeth in such a manner, Darcy struggled to keep his voice calm as he replied. "You have never been more wrong, Richard. The fact that she is the only woman to see past my worth as a gentleman to dislike me as a person proves that I am not worthy of her."

"Of...of course Darcy," Fitzwilliam stuttered. "Forgive me, of course you are right."

Nodding his head in approval, Darcy leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes as his cousin fell into an uncomfortable silence.

.

.

.

A couple hours later found the two gentlemen arriving at Rosings discussing the strange man they had seen waving at them from beside the lane.

"And you say that he approached you without a proper introduction, at a public ball no less? Poorly done if you ask me," Fitzwilliam said as he disembarked from the carriage.

"Perhaps it would not have been so if he had not done it with the intent to inform me of her ladyship's health. Approaching a stranger in a ballroom is one thing, to do so with the purpose of claiming such an acquaintance in the hopes of securing higher standing in the neighborhood is what I truly find abhorrent," Darcy replied as he too stepped from the carriage placing his hat upon his head. "More to the point, I found him to be quite the rambling sycophant, eager to please where his attentions are most unwanted."

"Then it can be of no wonder that our aunt finds such pleasure in his attendance upon her. She finds it of the utmost importance to surround herself with those who will lavish ridiculous praises upon her person," Fitzwilliam chuckled as they began to climb the steps. "I believe I remember her ladyship saying in a letter to my father that her parson was recently married. Are you perchance acquainted with the young lady?"

"I am indeed a little acquainted with Mrs. Collins. I will not deny that I was quite astonished to hear that she had accepted his suit, yet as a rational woman, I am sure she saw this as quite the opportunity. Although of a stout mind, I heard many in Hertfordshire claim she is a plain woman with little prospects and almost an old maid. While I have enjoyed her company in the past and will be pleased to renew our acquaintance, I cannot say the same of her husband."

"My, my, Darcy. That is quite the speech. I do not recall you ever speaking of any lady so," Fitzwilliam teased. "Do you regret her marriage then?"

Rolling his eyes, Darcy replied with a touch of agitation in his voice. "For her own sake I do. I believe Mrs. Collins to have settled far below her worth, and while I see the many advantages in her marriage to our aunt's parson, I cannot imagine her to be more than merely content with her situation. To have married such an odious excuse of a man she should be declared a saint. I am sorry for her, yet am pleased that she has a secure future before her."

"So, she is not the young lady you have set your eyes on?" Fitzwilliam whispered.

Sneering, Darcy stopped before the assembled staff in the foyer waiting to help divest them of their outerwear and turned to his cousin with a menacing glare in his eyes. "I knew I should not have mentioned anything to you Richard," his voice barely audible. "While I am pleased to call Mrs. Collins a friend, I have lost nothing in her marriage. In fact, I believe her marriage will benefit us more than her as we shall be guaranteed more pleasant and sensible conversation during our sojourn here at Rosings than is typically found. Now perhaps we can leave this subject behind and greet our aunt as I do hate to delay the inevitable no matter how dreary it is."

"Very well, Darcy," Fitzwilliam said confused as to his cousin's strange demeanor.

As they were helped out of their outerwear, they were notified that they were to retire to their rooms in order to refresh themselves before greeting her ladyship in the formal parlor room in half an hour's time. Fighting the urge to role his eyes at his aunt's high handedness, Darcy followed his cousin and the butler upstairs to their assigned rooms. Fitzwilliam was shown to a room on the far end of the family wing while Darcy had noticed that his room had once again been moved closer to his Cousin Anne's suite.

Shortly after his mother died, Darcy and Fitzwilliam had begun their annual visits to Rosings at Easter time. George Darcy had always accompanied his wife to visit her sister, yet found after her death that his disgust for Lady Catherine far outweighed his duty to his dead wife's sister. Instead, not wishing to offend the great lady, he offered to send Darcy in his stead. Unwilling to visit his formidable aunt on his own, Darcy had begged his father to accompany him. After weeks of arguments, George Darcy compromised and arranged with his brother in law, the Earl of Matlock*, to send Richard Fitzwilliam with his son. Darcy and Fitzwilliam had always been as close as brothers so the arrangement was agreed to by all.

While the first visit had been awkward, the family still in mourning for Anne Darcy, Darcy found it had been far pleasanter than he had expected. He had never spent much time with his cousin Anne, yet he and Fitzwilliam both found her to be a pleasant companion. Unfortunately, the time spent with Anne had not gone unnoticed by Lady Catherine. When the two cousins repeated the visit the following year, she had begun to state how wonderful it was that Darcy cared so for her daughter and how Anne had greatly missed his company. By the time another year had passed, Lady Catherine began to tell Darcy how wonderful it would be if he married Anne when they grew older.

While her ladyship's desires had been a means of much amusement between the three cousins at the beginning, things changed by the time Anne turned of age. She had become sick with pneumonia the previous winter, and was still recovering by the time the season had started. As such, her mother cancelled her coming out and kept her hidden from the rest of the world. A year later when Darcy and Fitzwilliam made their annual visit, they were shocked at the changes in their cousin. Gone was the lively girl they had spent many happy times with, and in her place was a sickly girl who required constant praise and attentions like her mother, no matter how false. By the time the visit had come to an end, both cousins could not stand to remain at Rosings for another day. It was purely out of duty and remembrances of past pleasures spent with Anne that kept the two cousins returning each year.

The year after his father died, Darcy's return to Rosings was made even more difficult. Still struggling with his loss - as well as the overwhelming duties and memories that now belonged to him - he found no pleasure in their visit. Dreading and anticipating the season that would start immediately following their visit, Darcy had hoped to find some reprieve in the comfort achieved from continuing this annual tradition. It was to his great dismay that Lady Catherine's exclamations of a possible marriage had turned into a desire shared by herself and her beloved sister, Anne Darcy, since their two children were in their cradles. That year, Darcy found his cousin Anne to be as desperate for his attentions as many ladies of the ton were that following season.

Unable to think of any woman besides his lost love Iliana, Darcy spent the majority of the visit attempting to avoid his aunt and cousin despite their many machinations. As this habit continued on during the following five years, Anne became more withdrawn having realized her cousin Darcy showed no interest in her. Her mother, on the other hand, merely saw his inattention as the efforts of a young man not wishing to break with propriety. To her, Darcy merely needed a little bit of encouragement - though not too subtle - and as such he found his room each visit moved ever closer to Anne's as though proximity was the key to an engagement. Chuckling to himself as he viewed his current suite of rooms, he realized that at the current rate, in two years time his aunt would not be able to place him any closer to Anne unless she required they share the same room.

Shivering with disgust at the thought of marriage to a cross and sickly Anne, Darcy forced aside his distressing memories of past visits and tried to focus on the pleasures to be found during his current visit. Divesting himself of his coat and cravat, Darcy rang the bell for his valet before walking towards the window. Using his keen eyesight, he was able to see the trees on the far end of the property that surrounded the parsonage. With a soft grin, he contemplated on the great joy he would have in seeing his beloved Iliana once more that evening.

After changing out of his dusty travel clothes, Darcy left his room and joined Fitzwilliam on the landing. Without saying a word, the two gentlemen locked gazes before squaring their shoulders and making their way downstairs to the formal parlor room.

As they entered the room, Darcy had to refrain himself from reacting to the garish decorations. Never one to economize, Lady Catherine was known for the constant updating of her rooms. According to her, it would not do for a woman of such standing to be seen with out of date furnishings; Rosings deserved only the finest. Unfortunately, the finest according to her were often overwhelming to everyone else as they tended to be far too ostentatious.

Looking around the room, Darcy noticed several changes amongst the furnishings, the most obvious being the chair upon which her ladyship sat. As a child he had often compared his aunt's parlor to what he would expect the King's court to be, and at last, she had procured a chair to do his imaginings justice.

Her ladyship sat upon a large armed chair carved from the finest of mahogany with a deep rich red brocade silk as the upholstery. Engraved along the back, arms and legs of her throne were images of ivy, flowers, and an artist's rendering of several woodland creatures. Struggling to maintain a neutral facade, Darcy felt repulsed by the images. The fairies were depicted as scantily clad buxom women with wings three times their size while the elves were shown as fat bearded miniature men. Of the many other creatures Darcy felt only a slight injustice, yet the desire to destroy the chair raged deep in his heart.

Fitzwilliam coughed beside Darcy drawing his attention away from the chair and towards the room's occupants. Sitting upon her grand chair, Lady Catherine was eyeing Darcy with displeasure while Anne stifled a giggle. Bowing low to the two ladies Darcy began to offer his apologies.

"I hope you will forgive me aunt for my rudeness. I find I was quite distracted by your...er...elegant chair there. I have never seen the like"

"I would certainly hope so," Lady Catherine replied haughtily. "My man assured me that it was one of a kind. While I was hesitant to purchase such a pagan piece at first, I was convinced that it would indeed be a wise investment. I understand woodland creatures to be all the rage on the continent and would hate to fall behind the times when this dreadful war is over and the rest of England begins to update their designs. You should know that I detest having to adjust to new customs after others have done so. It is not right. Rosings must be seen as an instigator of new styles and not a follower."

"You are very wise madam," Darcy said with a nod of his head.

"Indeed I am, for it would not do for one of my station to be otherwise."

Standing next to him, Darcy heard Fitzwilliam struggle to contain a snort of derision and had to contain his own smile. After a few more words of greeting were exchanged, Lady Catherine ordered her nephews to sit down since it was very unkind of them to force her to crane her neck up to look at their tall frames. Trying to sit upon the chair to Lady Catherine's left, Darcy was immediately scolded for not paying Anne any attention and told to sit next to her on the chase lounge. Hesitating slightly, Darcy saw that Anne was sitting in such a position as to allow little to no room for him to sit without constant contact. Fighting the urge to run from the room towards the parsonage, he forced a smile upon his face and sat as far from Anne on the sofa as was possible.

Unable to keep himself from constantly checking the time upon the ornate mantle clock, Darcy sat through his aunt's tedious conversations as she rarely allowed others to speak. After an hour of listening to his aunt's diatribe, Darcy took advantage of a short pause to mention their seeing Mr. Collins upon arriving and asked if her ladyship was pleased with her parson. Looking across the room, he saw Fitzwilliam bestowing a bemused look upon him. With a barely perceptible shake of his head and raised eyebrow, he tried to communicate to his cousin not to say anything and to accept the diversion. Lady Catherine, not having noticed the exchange, was quick to launch into the new topic.

"Indeed I most certainly am. Mr. Collins is a most amiable man and very attentive to my every need. I understand you to have met him while you stayed with your friend in Hertfordshire."

"Indeed I did have that pleasure."

"Well I am most displeased to hear you confirm such as I had looked forward to providing the introductions myself. I also understand you to have met his new wife?"

"I am not sure that I have madam. When I met Mr. Collins he was most decidedly unattached. Is it possible that he married one of the young ladies from the area?" Darcy asked much to Fitzwilliam's confusion.

"Yes he married a young lady by the name of Miss Lucas."

"Then I am pleased indeed for her. I found Miss Lucas to be a most agreeable young lady and am sure that she will do well in her new station in life."

"And she does indeed," Lady Catherine replied. "Although I was at first quite disappointed that Mrs. Collins knew so little of running a parsonage with proper adequacy. But she is a sensible woman and has taken all of my advice to heart much to her credit. I have made several visits to the parsonage and have most graciously pointed out many improvements needed to both the house and her staff and she has followed every suggestion precisely as I outlined."

"How very magnanimous of your ladyship," Darcy said with a hint of dry sarcasm lost on all except Fitzwilliam. "Pray tell me, how does she fare being so far from her family?" He then asked earning a new glare from Fitzwilliam as he silently questioned why Darcy was being so forward in his questions regarding a woman for whom he claimed no affection besides that of a respected friend.

"And why should the distance affect her, Darcy?" Lady Catherine huffed. "It is a woman's duty to marry and move away from her family. If she is not of the disposition to handle it well, then she would be better off having not married at all." Taking a deep breath, Lady Catherine calmed herself before continuing. "Thankfully Mrs. Collins is of a very sound disposition and handles the separation well. Although she has been blessed this past fortnight with the company of her sister. Her father accompanied her here but could only stay a week. Sir William Lucas, as I am sure you remember Darcy, is a very genteel man, not brought up too high since his knighthood. I was well pleased with him. And the sister too, although I must say that I find Miss Lucas to be far too quiet for a young lady. She would do very well with some lessons and has also taken all of my directions to heart. The friend on the other hand, well I am sure there is nothing to be done for her and I despair of her ever finding a husband unless she learns to curb her ways and respect her betters."

Angry that Lady Catherine would insult Miss Elizabeth so, Darcy was grateful that Fitzwilliam replied instead. "A friend, Lady Catherine? Pray tell us would this be a friend of Mrs. Collins or of Miss Lucas?"

"Why Mrs. Collins of course. Were you not paying attention Fitzwilliam? How my brother would be ashamed of you. Did you not hear me say that Miss Elizabeth Bennet also traveled with Sir William and Miss Lucas to visit Mrs. Collins? Indeed you must not have."

Neither wishing to correct Lady Catherine on her lack of mentioning Miss Elizabeth sooner, both gentlemen had to clear their throats while exchanging looks of amusement. Ignoring Fitzwilliam's raised eyebrow, Darcy hesitantly asked, "And are you aware of how long Mrs. Collins plans on entertaining her guests?"

"The young ladies are to stay a total of six weeks although I had told Mrs. Collins before their arrival that I expect them to stay for two months. Miss Bennet, however, seems unconcerned as to my expectations, but I daresay she will not wish to leave when it comes time for there is no place a beautiful as Rosings except perhaps Pemberley."

"Indeed I must agree with you aunt," Fitzwilliam piped in.

"As well you should, Fitzwilliam."

"Perhaps then we might be of some assistance to you," Darcy said shocking his cousin who knew Darcy dreaded being of assistance to Lady Catherine. "If you wish Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas to stay, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I would be pleased indeed to introduce the young ladies to the true pleasures to be had at Rosings."

Glancing across the room, Darcy saw understanding dawn upon Fitzwilliam's face and had to force down a smirk. Meanwhile, Lady Catherine was beginning to ramble on about how wonderful Darcy was to take such wonderful care of her and her daughter while Anne bestowed upon him a simpering smile and batted her lashes. When she quietly whispered that she enjoyed the company of the young ladies Darcy knew he had his escape at last.

"Then it is settled. It would be quite remiss of me to delay my duty to you, aunt. It would also be unpardonable for me to wait any longer to congratulate Mrs. Collins on her marriage," Darcy declared as joy filled his heart; at last he would see Miss Elizabeth, his beloved Iliana, again.

"Now?" Lady Catherine squealed. "You wish to go now? Darcy I am ashamed of you. You and the Colonel have only just arrived; therefore there is no need for you to go rambling about visiting others. Mrs. Collins and her guests can wait. Besides, it is very cruel of you to have denied me the pleasure of introducing you in the first place, and now you wish to once again deny me that pleasure for the Colonel? No it will not do. I insist that you stay and reacquaint yourself with Anne today. It has been a whole year after all since you have seen her and I dare say she has greatly improved in these last few months, has she not?"

Feeling deflated, Darcy agreed and settled back into his seat while Fitzwilliam decided to appease his curiosity about the occupants of the parsonage by engaging her ladyship in further conversation. Decidedly depressed at having to wait another day to see Miss Elizabeth, Darcy was unsure how he maintained a pleasant facade through the rest of the afternoon, dinner, and evening in company with his aunt and cousins.

When Lady Catherine decided it was time for her and Anne to retire, Darcy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Never before had he been so anxious to escape his aunt's presence. After the ladies had gone upstairs, Fitzwilliam quickly divested himself of his cravat and jacket before sending a footman to retrieve a bottle of brandy and two glasses from the library. Knowing that Fitzwilliam wished to discuss his strange attitude throughout the day, Darcy collapsed into a chair near the fire, leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He was determined not to say anything that his cousin did not ask for.

After the footman had delivered the brandy and been dismissed for the night, the two cousins sat contemplating each other while sipping their drinks.

"Well?" Fitzwilliam finally asked to which Darcy merely raised an eyebrow in reply. Sighing Fitzwilliam continued. "Well, I must say that was well played this afternoon."

"If it was truly well played," Darcy scoffed, "then I would have been successful in our escape."

"That may be so, but I am certain Lady Catherine never suspected for a moment. Therefore, it was well played."

"Thank you Richard."

After several moments of silence during which both gentlemen stared into their glasses, Fitzwilliam spoke again with a touch of hesitation in his voice. "Earlier you told me about Mrs. Collins marriage, yet when our aunt brought up the topic, you pretended ignorance. While I see now that you did so as a ploy to remove ourselves from our aunt's company, I still fail to see why you waited until Miss Bennet was mentioned to leave."

Looking up, he saw Darcy staring into the fire, his eyes a darker blue than he had ever seen before. Much like Georgiana, Fitzwilliam had noticed the change of color in Darcy's eyes after his father's death, and had learned that they continued to change ever so slightly depending on his mood. It was always a wonder to him, yet an unknown fear kept him from inquiring as to the reason behind it. As he watched silver specks dance across his cousin's eyes, Fitzwilliam finally understood.

"You knew Miss Bennet was at the parsonage, but how?"

With a slight smile, Darcy lifted his glass in a silent toast to his cousin while his eyes never left the fire. "I was wondering when you would show the same intelligence that has kept you alive in battle all these years. Indeed I was aware of Miss Elizabeth's presence before we arrived."

"But you never mentioned her to me."

"No I did not," Darcy agreed. "I met Miss Jane Bennet in the park yesterday after meeting with my solicitors and she informed me of her younger sister's visit to Hunsford. While I pray you never have need of an acquaintance with Mrs. Bennet or her two youngest daughters, I have found great pleasure in the company of Mr. Bennet and his three eldest daughters, Miss Elizabeth in particular."

"Five daughters?" Fitzwilliam asked amazed. "And all of them unattached?"

Nodding his head, a memory of Miss Lydia running loudly through the crowded Netherfield ballroom, her sister Miss Kitty close behind surfaced. Unable to contain a shudder he said, "They do not remain unattached for a lack of trying. While all quite beautiful in their own ways, the lack of a dowry or connections has left them few options for finding suitable husbands."

"Yet that does not seem to be stopping you from pursuing Miss Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam said his brows raised.

"No it does not. There is nothing that can stop me from pursuing and one day marrying Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said hoping that the personage watching them could hear his words.

"I beg to disagree, William. You yourself told me that the lady does not care for you. Would you truly wed a woman against her own will?"

Horrified that his cousin would suggest such a thing, Darcy slammed his glass down on the side table and leaned forward menacingly towards his cousin. "I am ashamed that you would suggest such a thing of me! Have I no honor in your eyes?"

As an army colonel who had seen his fair share of battle, Fitzwilliam had never been as scared as he was staring into his cousin's black eyes filled with rage at that very moment. Stuttering an apology, he watched Darcy relax back into his seat much as a young child watches his angry father sit back down to another glass of ale. After several uncomfortable moments, Fitzwilliam was finally able to relax himself as he watched Darcy's eyes return to their normal blue color.

"I must be the one to beg your forgiveness, Richard," Darcy said. "Unfortunately you are correct; the lady has a low opinion of me. I will do anything to change that, however, although I do not see much chance of that while here at Rosings. While I am not proud of what I must do, I cannot allow Lady Catherine to know of my desires while Miss Elizabeth resides at Hunsford. Richard, I must ask..."

"There is no need to ask, William," Fitzwilliam interrupted. "If your lady is indeed what you believe her to be, then I would be pleased to be of service to you."

"Thank you. You know not how important this is to me," Darcy said offering his hand to his cousin.

After another hour of pleasant conversation, the two cousins put aside their glasses and began to head towards their rooms. As they reached Darcy's door, Fitzwilliam placed his hand upon his shoulder stopping him. With a teasing grin he said, "I must warn you Darcy; while I am pleased to be of service to you in wooing your young lady, if she is what you say she is then I cannot guarantee my own heart will remain untouched. You might have just begun a rivalry for her hand." Chuckling, Fitzwilliam left his cousin standing there and completed his journey to his own chambers leaving behind Darcy who muttered, "There can never be another who could win her heart."

* * *

*While Jane Austen never gives us a real name for Colonel Fitzwilliam's father, and although there never has been an Earl of Matlock, I have chosen to stick with the name mentioned in the 1995 BBC version of P&P.

 **AN:** umm...hello everyone! Guess what...UPDATE! YAY!

Before I say anything else, let me make one thing very clear: I have every intention of finishing this story! No matter what happens in life, I **will** finish this story, so please no worries there.

That being said... **I AM SO SO SORRY!** This last month has been such a stressful nightmare that despite the fact that this chapter was eating away at me the whole time I literally had no time to write. I perhaps tried to stretch myself too far, so the few times I had more than 10 minutes of free time I was too exhausted to do anything other than sleep. Thankfully the 3 biggest stress inducers in my life are now behind me (band camp, 70 uniform sashes to be made, and my brother's out of town wedding), and I'm slowly falling into a new comfortable routine. Now, unfortunately I will not be able to write and post as often as I was doing beforehand, or at least not until football season is over. My husband and I just started school online and classes began yesterday (Monday), I started a new job this last Friday, I'm the uniform manager and drill/music instructor for my old HS Marching Band, and I still have all my church and family responsibilities. But as I already said, I'm falling into my new routine and will have time once more to write. Thank goodness too because if I don't write these next few chapters quickly I'm going to go crazy! (I'm super excited for what's to come, can you tell?)

So I thank each and every one of you who has continued to support me in this effort despite my lack of posting, and I hope I will not have to wait so long before being able to post again. Also a huge welcome to all those new readers who Favorited or followed my story in this past month even though my story probably wasn't showing up until page 3 or 4 of the P&P fanfics ;-) I hope the wait was worth it!

All my love,  
Allahteeah!


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"...and I must say it was quite unpardonable of her to do such a thing without first inquiring of me as to the proper way to finish it. While others may have praised her for her fortitude in completing such a daunting piece, I found it to be lacking the finesse she could have achieved with my assistance." Lady Catherine finished her speech with a dismissing wave of her hand before reaching down to pick up the muffin on her plate. Breathing a sigh of relief, her two nephews both shared a look of exasperation before Darcy decided to take advantage of the short pause in her conversation.

"Pray tell, aunt, when are we to have the pleasure of Mr. Collins' company and that of his new wife?"

"Mr. Collins?" Lady Catherine huffed. "Why I see no need for his company whilst you are here. I am sure we will see him and his family Easter Sunday at church. I dare say that will be soon enough."

Frustrated, Darcy replied through gritted teeth. "While I am sure we shall indeed see your parson at church, I still believe it would be unpardonable to wait to wish Mrs. Collins joy upon her marriage since we are already acquainted."

Shocked that Darcy would speak in such a manner to her, Lady Catherine looked up from her plate to see a look of angry determination flashing in his ice blue eyes. Unwilling to admit to the fear that overcame her at his look, she quickly waved him off while saying, "very well. I suppose we might invite them to tea tomorrow. Surely that will be soon enough for proprieties sake. In the meantime, I have much need of you Darcy. I am certain that my new steward is not as qualified as he claims to be. I believe he has been falsifying records and is stealing from Rosings. I need you to assist me in going over the records from the past year to assure that all is as I believe it to be."

"Very well, aunt. I would be honored to attend you," Darcy said fighting the growing despair inside. Their visit was to only last a little over a week, and he wanted as much of that time to be spent with Miss Elizabeth. Now he was facing a week sequestered with his aunt trying to prove that her suspicions regarding a steward he had personally recommended were false while she tried to push a marriage to Anne on him.

Sensing his cousin's disappointment, Fitzwilliam quickly spoke up. "Aunt, I do believe Darcy and I were planning on touring the park over the next few days. I remember you telling my father in your last letter of several improvements that were made over the winter at your discretion. We were both looking forward to the opportunity to oversee these improvements ourselves."

Seeing a brief look of hope and gratitude cross Darcy's face, Lady Catherine grew quite angry that her nephew wished to be relieved of his duty to her. "Nonsense, Fitzwilliam. There is no need for Darcy to attend you on such a journey; and seeing as you have not an estate of your own and no prospects of ever owning one, I see not why you need go. If you so desire, go yourself. Darcy will remain here assisting me as I am in great need of his help. I will go with him if it is deemed necessary. In the meantime Darcy I expect you to meet me at one this afternoon as soon as my steward is available."

"Yes, Aunt," both gentlemen mumbled as they turned to finish their breakfasts ignoring their aunt's further conversation.

As the inhabitants of Rosings were leaving the breakfast room, the butler approached the group with an unreadable face. "Mr. Collins is here to see you madam." Before her ladyship could refuse his admittance, Darcy stepped forward and with a smile said, "how marvelous, Mr. Cowell. We were just discussing when we would be given the opportunity to congratulate Mr. Collins on his recent marriage."

Shocked that Darcy would desire to meet with the pompous parson, the butler shot him a quick look of uncertainty. Upon seeing the pleading look in Darcy's eyes the butler knew that it was not Mr. Collins he was desirous to see, but the ladies at the parsonage as well as the chance to escape from Lady Catherine. With the slightest nod of his head, and struggling to contain his smile of amusement, the butler said, "very well. Shall I show him into the morning parlor then madam?"

Not failing to miss the look of satisfaction on her nephew's face, Lady Catherine agreed before determining in her mind that she would punish Darcy for his lack of respect towards her wishes. Ever since arriving the day before, he had been too anxious to leave her company to visit the parsonage and she was far from pleased.

A few minutes later found the party in the morning parlor while Mr. Collins was expressing his great pleasure in renewing Darcy's acquaintance as well as meeting another of her ladyship's most illustrious nephews. His effusions were received with gratitude from Lady Catherine while Fitzwilliam shot looks of disgust towards his cousin who was showing an unusual amount of enjoyment. Uncomfortable with his cousin's unusual easiness, Fitzwilliam decided to try and deflect the parson's attentions away from himself by asking how Mr. Collins enjoyed Hunsford. The question had the opposite effect of the one he was hoping for as Mr. Collins began to wax eloquently on her ladyship's great condescension towards himself. This of course led to the greater amusement of Darcy.

"For you see sir," Mr. Collins finished after several minutes' worth of praise, "there is nothing that needs to be done that her ladyship, whom you are most fortunate to call aunt, does not see to for herself. I know not how I could have made it this far in life without her careful guidance." Ending with a flourishing half bow from his seated position towards Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins missed the sneers of disgust on the other gentlemen's faces.

"Mr. Collins is indeed most fortunate that I have decided to take him in under my care," Lady Catherine said haughtily. "For if I had not, he would not have been so blessed in life. I am sure you are aware Darcy that it was under my own careful guidance that Mr. Collins sought out a wife suitable to his needs. There is no one better suited to guiding a man in regards of choosing a bride than I," she said with a pointed glance towards Anne.

Forcing himself to keep a stoic expression, Darcy carefully avoided looking towards his sickly cousin at his side and addressed his aunt in a way that he hoped would garner his and Fitzwilliam's escape. "Indeed I do believe that Mr. Collins has greatly benefitted from your advice aunt and I am sure he could not have chosen a better bride." Ignoring his aunt's pleased expression and Mr. Collins voiced gratitude Darcy continued. "In fact, I was mentioning to Fitzwilliam last evening how pleased I am to have a chance to meet her again. If I remember correctly, Mrs. Collins is a very agreeable lady full of pleasant conversation. You are to be greatly admired for having obtained her hand, sir."

All eyes were upon Darcy in shock at the end of his speech, and a quick glance at Fitzwilliam nearly caused him to break out in laughter. Surely the colonel knew what he was after, therefore, Darcy felt there was no reason for him to act so surprised that he would openly compliment a woman in order to gain a reprieve from his aunts company. Thankfully Mr. Collins was the first to recover.

"Mr. Darcy, you do me and Mrs. Collins a great honor sir." He said standing up to perform a full bow.

"Nonsense, Mr. Collins, I am merely saying what I know all to be thinking," Darcy quipped. "I do hope you will pass on my congratulations to her, sir. I know I spent many evenings enjoying the company of the Lucas family and that of Mrs. Collins whilst I was in Hertfordshire. I would hate to have her think I would disregard our previous acquaintance now that she is so advantageously married by not giving her my sincere compliments at the earliest possible moment. And pray tell your wife sir that I hope to have to opportunity to meet her again very soon."

"I would be very happy to pass along the message to Mrs. Collins sir. Although I doubt I could express your kind sentiments in as eloquent a manner as you have."

With a slight smile, Fitzwilliam shot a conspiratorial glance towards Darcy as he decided to help finish setting the trap that would ensnare Mr. Collins thus setting them free to visit the parsonage. "Now Mr. Collins that would not do at all. I am sure you must understand a woman's sensibilities to be a delicate thing. If you are unsure of your ability to deliver my cousins compliments adequately then you had best not mention them at all."

"While I do agree with you, cousin, regarding the sensibilities of the fairer sex, I would hate to think of sending Mr. Collins home without a word to his wife. As I said before, I enjoyed her acquaintance and it is unpardonable that as the nephew of her husband's patroness I would not wish her joy at the earliest opportunity. We cannot expect Mr. Collins to return home after coming to specifically welcome us into the neighborhood without a greeting for Mrs. Collins. But alas, what is to be done?" As Darcy finished, he had to hide his smug look from his aunt's narrowed eyes as he watched Mr. Collins scrunch up his face in thought.

"You are right, Mr. Darcy. I must have something to say to my wife and her guests, yet I would not wish to misconstrue your words and accidentally cause offense to you or my benevolent patroness. Perhaps I should return home so that I may bring Mrs. Collins to Rosings to hear your words for herself."

"My dear sir," Darcy said exasperated with the man's stupidity. "While I agree it would be best for me to deliver my compliments to Mrs. Collins directly, we cannot ask you to impose so upon my aunt nor leave her guests behind. You forget that I am also acquainted with Misses Lucas and Bennet. As it is, it is a shame that you have called here today and propriety demands that we cannot visit the ladies whilst you are here calling upon us."

Horror at the thought of importuning his patroness caused Mr. Collins to utter words of apology while bowing profusely. It was during the middle of one of his bows, however, that Darcy's final words seemed to hit him. Standing up abruptly, eyes wide with realization, he turned to Darcy and hesitatingly began. "Sir, of course you cannot call upon the ladies whilst I am here. How unfortunate that I have preempted your own visit for surely you must have planned to do so this morning. I must humbly beg your forgiveness for depriving us and our guests of your call upon our humble home. Perhaps you would be so kind sir as to allow me to accompany you and the colonel now. The ladies, I assure you, would be most gratified of your condescension I assure you."

Feeling a surge of satisfaction, Darcy inclined his head. "Thank you Mr. Collins. Colonel Fitzwilliam and I would be most honored to accompany you. Shall we go now?"

Standing, all three gentlemen began to take their leave of Lady Catherine and Anne when the former finally regained her voice. "Darcy," she said "surely you have forgotten your duty to me this morning. I assure you that you shall have the opportunity to visit the ladies soon. I, however, will not be kept waiting. Fitzwilliam may take your compliments for you."

"I assure you aunt, I have not forgotten our appointment," Darcy said with a barely contained sneer. He was determined not to wait any longer before seeing his beloved. "However, if I remember correctly, your steward would not be available until one o'clock this afternoon, and until I have spoken with him, I will not know where to start. In the meantime, please do not let us gentlemen keep you from your other responsibilities. We shall return before long."

Without looking back, Darcy walked past the other two gentlemen and stalked to the door where a footman and a smirking Mr. Cowell were waiting to hand him his coat, hat and gloves. As the servants turned to help Mr. Collins struggle into his own coat, Fitzwilliam leaned in and whispered quietly, "You are aware that she will not let you get off lightly for this I assume."

Smiling, Darcy turned towards his cousin and whispered in reply, "I am, yet I would be an even bigger fool to let another minute pass without seeing Miss Elizabeth again. I assure you that her regard is of greater importance to me than Lady Catherine's pleasure."

Unsure of the changes he had been witnessing in his cousin over the past several days, Fitzwilliam quickly followed him out the door as they headed towards the parsonage. Along the way, Mr. Collins continued to expound on her ladyships kindness as well as the unparalleled beauty of the park. Will a roll of his eyes, Fitzwilliam turned to look at his cousin shocked to see that he was oblivious to all around him. At that moment, Darcy's eyes were bluer than he had ever seen them as they shone with hope and determination. With a slight shake of his head Fitzwilliam wondered yet again what kind of woman Miss Elizabeth Bennet was to have so affected the impenetrable heart of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

.

.

.

"Eliza! Maria! You will never guess the honor to which we are to be bestowed." Charlotte Collins said with bated breath as she rushed into the sitting room where her sister and friend were attending to their needlework.

"Oh dear," Elizabeth said with a sarcastic smile. "Surely it could not be the archbishop now would it?"

"Eliza!" Charlotte scolded before breaking out into laughter while her younger sister sat horrified that Elizabeth would make light of such a personage. "No indeed. It seems Mr. Collins has returned early from his visit to Rosings."

Shocked that Charlotte would consider her husband's early return an honor, Elizabeth looked up and began to wonder if her friend was feeling ill. "Now Charlotte, surely there is no need for such excitement."

"Oh but there is. For you see, he does not return alone."

Unable to control the sudden beating of her heart, Elizabeth knew without hearing the rest of Charlotte's speech that Mr. Darcy would soon be there. Despite her many attempts over the winter, she had not been able to rid herself of dreams where Mr. Darcy or the fair haired stranger with his blue eyes invaded. Her dreams had only increased ever since hearing Lady Catherine declare that he and another nephew would be joining her at Rosings soon. She was still undetermined if such news brought relief or discomfort to her.

It had not taken long after his departure from Hertfordshire when she began to doubt the sincerity of his words as he apologized in the lane leading to Longbourn. A voice deep in her mind which had become a near constant companion ever since the day she encountered him in the library in Netherfield whispered that he would not return and his apology was not to be relied upon. This same voice whispered that his leaving had to do with Jane's heartbreak and confirmed her opinion that Wickham had been treated unfairly. While she could not explain why she held this voice in high esteem and trusted it, the way her heart beat when thinking of Darcy seemed to betray other feelings that left her disconcerted.

Having been so lost in her own thoughts that she missed the rest of the conversation between Charlotte and Maria, Elizabeth was quite surprised to discover her friend sitting next to her and reaching out to grab her hand. "I may thank you, Eliza, for this piece of civility. Mr. Darcy would never have come so soon to wait upon me."

Before she had a chance to dispute her friend's words, the doorbell rang announcing the arrival of Mr. Collins and the nephews of Lady Catherine. Before long, the three gentlemen entered the room being led by the one she could only assume was Colonel Fitzwilliam, the younger son of the Earl of Matlock. Although not of a handsome countenance, his smile and demeanor were quite pleasant and she saw many familial resemblances to his cousin who had entered hesitantly behind him.

The moment Mr. Darcy entered the room, Elizabeth found it a struggle to breathe. His blue eyes immediately captured hers and while it appeared he was bowing to the room at large, she could not help but feel it was directed at her. Visions of the light haired man began to replace him once more and she felt a longing for him that she could not describe.

Before she could dwell further on these thoughts, Mr. Collins entered the room and, with more pomposity than she had seen from him before, began to introduce the Colonel to the ladies. The Colonel immediately began to converse with Elizabeth and Maria while Mr. Darcy complimented Charlotte on her marriage and her gardens. The difference Elizabeth saw in the two gentlemen was so great she found herself wondering how they could possibly be from the same family.

After a few minutes, Maria, feeling overwhelmed with the company of the son of an Earl, moved to the other side of the room where her sister sat conversing with Mr. Darcy leaving Elizabeth and the Colonel alone.

"I must say, Miss Bennet, I have been quite looking forward to meeting you. I have heard so much about you that this is surely a great pleasure." Eyebrows raised in surprise, Elizabeth expressed her doubts that what he had heard would be flattering to her. "Indeed I disagree, Miss Bennet," he was quick to contradict her. "I have never heard my cousin speak so of a woman as he does of you."

The idea that perhaps Mr. Darcy thought highly of her sent warm shivers down her spine, and the sense of longing returned. Looking across the room, she noticed he was watching her in much the same manner he had done while in Hertfordshire while barely speaking to the Collins' or Maria. Immediately the voice began to whisper to her that the Colonel must be wrong in Mr. Darcy's estimation of her, else he would not look so dour.

"That would be because Mr. Darcy is my severest critic, Colonel," she replied with a teasing smile trying to ignore the sudden pain in her heart.

Confused, yet too much of a gentleman to show his surprise the Colonel looked at her trying to detect any falsehood. Discerning that she truly believed her words, he hesitatingly spoke. "I am sure you are wrong, Miss Bennet. Yet I do not wish to begin what I hope will be a very welcome acquaintance with a disagreement."

"You are very wise, Colonel." Elizabeth said relieved that he showed no interest in furthering the topic. She was further gratified when he began to ask her if she had had a tour of the park yet. This began a pleasant discussion on the many paths she had thus far enjoyed while he shared some of his favorites. Before long, however, they were interrupted by Mr. Darcy who came over to inquire after her family.

"They are very well I thank you," she replied confused as to the concerned look in his eyes. After a short pause during which she expected him to speak again, she added, "My eldest sisters has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?" She was quite confident that he had not, yet wished to determine if he was, as she suspected, privy to keeping Jane's presence from Mr. Bingley known. She was instead surprised to see him smile.

"Indeed I was most fortunate to come across your sister two days ago while she attended to her young cousins in the park. I must say it was quite a welcome surprise as I was unaware of her presence there. I only regret that I was to travel here to Kent the next morning thus making it necessary to decline her kind offer of tea."

Shocked that he seemed sincere in his regret, Elizabeth stared up at the man before her. She had been so sure that he, like Mr. Bingley's sisters, disapproved of his friends' attachment to her sister thus helping to separate the two. That she had not heard from Jane yet in regards to this recent meeting mattered little. Was it possible she was wrong? Before she could reflect further upon his remarks, she heard the voice tell her to ask after his own sister.

"I...I am glad to hear that you met with Jane, sir, although it is a shame that it was only so recently and not sooner. And may I inquire after your own sister? I understood from you, sir, that she was quite ill when you left Hertfordshire last November requiring her removal to your estate."

"Georgiana was ill?! Why was I not informed?" Colonel Fitzwilliam nearly bellowed as he bestowed a mighty glare upon his cousin. Looking at the Colonel, Elizabeth saw anger suffuse his features while any trace of a smile disappeared from Mr. Darcy's.

"It is of no matter, Richard. She is recovered and it was of short duration." Mr. Darcy said nervously trying to placate his cousin's anger.

"Yet it must have been quite serious enough to have removed her to Pemberley for the entire winter as well as your own self from a neighborhood I heard you describe as quite pleasant."

"Richard, please," Mr. Darcy begged quietly.

"I am confused," Elizabeth interjected looking back and forth between the two. "I understood her to be severely ill, yet you are now saying that she was never in any danger? And forgive me, Colonel, while your concern for your cousin is quite admirable, if she is indeed recovered after only a short time, why should it matter to you to be informed of it?"

"I am joined in guardianship of Miss Darcy with my cousin here," the Colonel replied trying to check his anger. "To hear from a new acquaintance that my ward suffered an illness that I was not informed of, yet an entire neighborhood is aware of, I find extremely disturbing."

With the Colonel's words, Elizabeth chanced a look up at Mr. Darcy and saw him look away guiltily. Suddenly all her doubts regarding his innocence in regards to her own sister and Wickham disappeared. He was not the honorable man he claimed to be, using his sister as an excuse to leave a neighborhood he deemed beneath him. She watched as he hesitatingly met her eyes, and upon seeing the hardness and disgust in hers, his lost all depth as they changed to a black color.

Suddenly she heard a warm chuckle fill the room and knew it to be the voice she had so often heard. The voice brought her comfort as it seemed to confirm to her Mr. Darcy's guilt. Although she knew no one else could hear the voice, she was surprised to see Mr. Darcy looking around the room as if he was looking for the source of the chuckle. When the laughter died down, his gaze returned to her, and she saw anger and loss written upon his face before he excused himself to once more converse with the Collins'.

Confused at what had just happened and wondering if Mr. Darcy could also hear the voice, she tried to turn her attention once more to the Colonel, yet found her attention wandering towards the other side of the room where _he_ was.

Elizabeth was grateful when a few short minutes later the gentlemen took their leave expressing their hope of seeing them again soon. When they had left, Charlotte walked over to her and took her hands in hers asking if she was alright.

With a hollow laugh, Elizabeth looked into her friend's eyes and said she was perfectly well especially since she now had proof of Mr. Darcy's dislike for her. Although Charlotte refused to believe as Elizabeth did, she did not press her further and the ladies soon returned to their needlework while Mr. Collins retired to his own room.

.

.

.

"Darcy you had better start explaining yourself right now!" Fitzwilliam shouted at his cousin's back as he struggled to keep up with Darcy's long strides.

Suddenly Darcy turned forcing Fitzwilliam to stop, a look of extreme anger in his eyes. "What would you like me to explain, cousin? Perhaps you would like me to tell you how you perhaps have just ruined any chance I might have had with Miss Bennet?"

"I did no such thing Darcy. You lied to Miss Bennet. You are completely to blame!"

"I did...I did not lie to her...I did not lie." Darcy said as his shoulders slumped in defeat, the anger leaving his eyes to be replaced by pain.

Unwilling to forgive his cousin so easily, the Colonel merely folded his arms across his chest as he watched his cousin. "So Georgiana was truly ill? In that case you have lied to me! Which is it man?"

"Georgiana was not ill," Darcy said. Sensing his cousin was about to start berating him again for lying to Miss Elizabeth he quickly held up his hand to stall him. "She was, however, suffering a relapse of the poor spirits she first experienced after Ramsgate. You had already left for the continent at that time, and I knew that she would recover quicker at Pemberley than in town. As for telling the people of Meryton, what else was I supposed to say? You know what kind of stigma our society puts on such emotional states; I could not expose her to that."

"William I...I am sorry I had no idea. And now Miss Bennet thinks you lied to her and her entire neighborhood?" Seeing Darcy's nod, Fitzwilliam strode over to a tree and leaned against it in his own despair. "Why did you not tell me before?"

"I did not think it important to inform you," Darcy replied watching his cousin carefully. Upon seeing Fitzwilliam's disbelief, he sighed and continued. "With you away on the continent, I did not wish to give you anything to worry about here at home. When you finally returned, she was so well recovered that I saw no reason to remind her of painful memories. I had not thought that Miss Elizabeth might mention it, else I would have warned you sooner." Sighing, he looked upon his cousin pleadingly. "Please, Richard. I know now that I was wrong in more areas than one. Can you forgive me for not informing you sooner?"

With a slight smile, Fitzwilliam reached out to grasp his cousin's hand. "Of course I can, but only if you forgive me for accidentally turning your enchanting Miss Bennet further against you."

"It is of no matter. As I said before, she is determined to think ill of me. You are not at fault." As he said the words, Darcy knew he was not speaking of her so much as he was the mysterious being. As soon as he had mentioned seeing Miss Jane Bennet in London, he felt the being's presence in the room as what little warmth that shone from her eyes disappeared. When the laughter filled the room, he knew that although he had been granted another opportunity to help her remember, his every move would be watched and countered by whoever it was watching over them.

Quietly the two gentlemen resumed their walk back to Rosings. One was watching the other curiously wondering how hard his cousin had fallen for Miss Elizabeth, while the other thought of ways to discover the mysterious watchers identity.

When they finally arrived at Rosings, Darcy excused himself as he had a desire for some solitude before meeting with Lady Catherine. Fitzwilliam watched as his cousin ran up the stairs with a heavy heart. He could not deny that he found Miss Elizabeth quite enchanting, yet he had never seen his cousin so distraught over a woman. Deciding that he wished to help Darcy as much as possible in finding happiness with the lady, Fitzwilliam set his shoulders and set out to find out as much from his aunt as possible regarding the one who had gained his cousin's love.

* * *

 **AN:** Hi everyone! So, I finally have my set days off from my new job, band is almost over, and I've got a pattern down for completing homework for my online class which means I should finally have more time to write! YIPPEE! Believe me, no one can be more excited than me about that! Well...at least I think so. ;-) Anyway, long time, I know, I'm sorry, and here's to hoping for another chapter even sooner!

Love you all so much and cannot thank you enough for your support, reviews, and understanding in regards to my slow posting! It means more to me than you know!

-Allahteeah


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

"I must say Darcy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said as he strode into the study, "your Miss Bennet is quite the young woman. To hear her tell stories of her and her sisters' many exploits, it is quite remarkable none of them have married yet. Indeed, if it were not for Miss Bennet's lack of fortune, I would be hard pressed not to extend an offer to her myself."

Darcy looked up from the ledgers in front of him to glare at his cousin. Despite his many attempts, Darcy had been unable to escape Lady Catherine's wrath after having denied her the opportunity to introduce the ladies at the parsonage to Fitzwilliam. Everywhere he went he was shadowed by at least two footmen, and the few attempts to venture outside had been joined by the stewards apprentice who insisted on showing him improvements needed and those already made around the park in the past year.

After two days of being unable to escape her servants, he had attempted a bit of magic to distract them and make his grand escape by switching up a few pictures in the gallery. Unfortunately, Lady Catherine kept a tight rein on her household and his little trick immediately caused much confusion and panic. Several staff members had been severely punished and, feeling guilty, Darcy decided that it was too dangerous to attempt any further magic while at Rosings. He did not desire for others to be punished for his doings.

As a result, Darcy had spent the majority of the week inside with Lady Catherine, her steward, and occasionally his cousin Anne, poring over all the estate books and ledgers. When no mistake of the steward's had been found and that all was as it should be, Darcy pointed out to his aunt that she must have been mistaken. She in turn tried to convince him that she knew her steward to be very competent and was only allowing him the opportunity to work thus as an attempt to relieve his own worries. Angry with her manipulations to keep him prisoner in her home, he merely nodded his head and agreed to finish the work for her. The sooner he completed the task, he reasoned, the sooner Lady Catherine could no longer lay claim to his time.

Much to Darcy's displeasure, his cousin had not been as unfortunate as himself. Now that he had made the acquaintance of those at the parsonage, Lady Catherine saw no reason to disallow the Colonel his now daily visits. Every morning saw Fitzwilliam leave for a ride around the park while the early afternoon brought him to Hunsford. His waltzing into the study every afternoon to relate a new witticism of Miss Elizabeth's had turned into a daily torture session for Darcy. To know that his cousin was able to freely visit her while he was not was nowhere near as painful for Darcy as knowing that she had charmed and was in turn charmed by his cousin.

Refusing to give in to his cousin's taunt, Darcy looked back down at the ledgers spread before him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Fitzwilliam poured himself a glass of brandy before plopping down into one of the armchairs before the desk. Rolling his eyes at his Fitzwilliam's careless attitude, he focused on the numbers in front of him. He only had a few more accounts to settle and he would be done...

"You should have seen her eyes as she struggled not to laugh at that odious cousin of hers, Darcy. Going off as he was about his sermon for tomorrow and how condescending our gracious aunt was to make several improving suggestions. Although from how he said it I am certain Lady Catherine considered them as corrections instead," Fitzwilliam sniggered before taking a deep swallow from his glass. "Remember when I teased Georgiana for reading all those sappy novels and believing eyes could truly dance? Well I need to apologize when next I see her, for no doubt Miss Bennet's eyes were truly dancing with merriment. I have never seen golden eyes until this day, Darcy, and I dare say, I should like to see them again."

Darcy's white knuckles as he gripped his pen tighter were the only outward sign that he had heard his cousin's words. Inside he was seething that his cousin had been privy to such a sight from his beloved while he was denied her presence. To be so close to her yet unable to see her was nothing short of pure torture to him. However, he refused to give into his anger as he knew his cousin was purposefully trying to get a rise out of him. It was a game they used to play as boys whenever one was hoping to get the other to reveal a secret. While he had often lost to his cousin growing up, Darcy knew he could not fully disclose his reasons for pursuing Miss Elizabeth so he must remain silent at all costs, no matter the pain he was suffering. His cousin's determination to know more about Darcy's interest in her, however, was nearly as great as his own to keep silent as Fitzwilliam had made several similar comments throughout the week.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Darcy relaxed his hold on the pen and continued to write. Fitzwilliam only allowed him a few lines before he began to speak again.

"I am glad our aunt has not changed her mind about inviting the Collins' and their guests to tea tomorrow evening. Although it is still a possibility that she will not extend the invitation since we are to leave Monday morning and she would not dream of sharing our company with others our last evening here. Imagine, tomorrow at church might be my last opportunity to converse with the lovely Miss Bennet." Sighing dramatically, Fitzwilliam placed a hand over his heart while taking another swig of brandy.

Fighting the urge not to snort at Fitzwilliam's pathetic performance, Darcy finally looked up at his cousin and cleared his throat. Amused he watched as Fitzwilliam immediately sat up straight and leaned forwards as if expecting the information he had been seeking all week. Drawing out the moment, Darcy bestowed a look of resignation upon his cousin before leaning forward conspiratorially. Eagerly Fitzwilliam leaned forward even further, a look of anticipation on his face as Darcy took a breath to begin.

"Well, Richard, in light of your disappointment, I find I must relieve it by informing you that we shall not be leaving Monday as planned. Lady Catherine was quite pleased to hear this afternoon that we shall stay another week."

Horror immediately overcame the Colonel's features as he fell back into his chair. Pleased, Darcy leaned back into his own and watched a myriad of emotions cross his cousins face.

"William, please tell me you are not serious!" Fitzwilliam finally spluttered. "We agreed years ago that we would never stay above a week. This place is oppressive and the inhabitants even more so. Ever since the year Anne became ill, both she and Lady Catherine have become unbearable. Despite the unexpected pleasures to be found at Hunsford this year, you cannot expect me to believe you are in earnest."

"I most certainly am in earnest, Richard." Seeing his cousin was about to begin to protest again, Darcy raised his hand up to stop him. "Surely you cannot expect me to leave without having spent time with Miss Elizabeth. I believe I quite clearly stated to you our first evening here my intentions towards her during our stay. I will not leave having only seen her twice, Richard, especially after the misunderstanding we had thanks to you. Perhaps you have forgotten that while you have been free to visit with her, I have been held here against my will taking care of estate business for our aunt."

"I have not forgotten, although I still see no reason to delay our departure. Surely you will have other opportunities to meet with Miss Bennet and improve her opinion of you."

"I am unwilling to take that risk," Darcy said as he rose from his chair to pour his own glass of brandy. Standing by the liquor cabinet he swirled the amber liquid as he stared at his cousin willing him to understand. "Due to Georgiana's sudden need to withdraw to Pemberley last November and the harsh winter we had in Derbyshire, I was unable to maintain any connections with those I met in Hertfordshire. And since Bingley no longer has any desire to return to the neighborhood, it would seem odd for me to show up uninvited, unannounced, and alone simply to visit one woman. By doing so, I would be openly declaring my attentions to all and since she holds no cordial feelings for me at this time, I fear such an action would only hurt my cause not forward it."

Swallowing his brandy in one large gulp, Darcy replaced his glass in the cabinet before striding back to the desk and collapsing in his chair. "Truthfully, Richard," he began again hesitatingly, "I had only started to improve my reputation in the neighborhood two days before I left suddenly. Before that, I had not portrayed myself favorably. Now with my extended absence, I cannot return alone without causing talk and I will not harm Miss Elizabeth in such a manner. As such, when I discovered Bingley had remained in town for the winter instead of returning to Netherfield, I despaired of ever seeing her again. Now I have been given this opportunity, and I will not waste it simply to appease you or our aunt."

Fitzwilliam watched his cousin carefully unsure what to say to such an admission. Never before had he heard Darcy admit to having behaved with less than perfect decorum with such remorse as he showed now.

When it became obvious to Darcy that Fitzwilliam had no reply, he heaved a sigh, picked up his pen, and quickly began to finish his work. After several minutes, and ledgers, later, Fitzwilliam swallowed the last of his drink and stood to leave the room. Determined to finish all that was left before dinner, Darcy failed to notice his cousin's hesitation to leave until he cleared his throat. Looking up, he was surprised to find Fitzwilliam standing by the door regarding him warily.

"When you first told me of Miss Bennet, I doubted that she was as indifferent to you as you suggested. Yet I now believe she truly despises you, William. Every time I have mentioned your name, she scoffs and laughs or her face scrunches up in displeasure. Whatever you have done to make her feel so, I doubt you can overcome it easily."

"Richard, you have never been more right, yet I will not give up. I will do whatever it takes to change her opinion of me because there can never be another woman whom I could love as I do her."

Shaking his head, Richard eyed his cousin disbelievingly. "Truly she is a remarkable woman, but surely you will find another one just like her one day. Perhaps you had best leave off where you are and forget her. I do not wish to see you hurt by her continued dislike of you."

"There is _no one_ else like Miss Elizabeth, and no, I cannot forget her. She is a part of me, and one day, she will remember me, and when that day comes, all our misunderstandings will be forgot."

"Remember you?" Fitzwilliam asked eyeing his cousin with confusion. "How is she to remember you when she has never forgotten you? Have you met prior to making her acquaintance in Hertfordshire?"

Mentally berating himself for having slipped, Darcy shook his head before answering. "No, I had not met Miss Elizabeth Bennet prior to the assembly in Meryton last October," he said truthfully. "What I meant to say is that one day she will come to know the real me, and when she does, I know that she will love me as I do her."

With a dry laugh, Fitzwilliam shook his own head in disbelief. "I admire you and your forbearance where the lady is concerned. Very well then. While I highly disagree with you in regards to her feelings, I cannot deny such a plea from you. I will stay with you here at Rosings Park and will even sacrifice some of my time to spend with Lady Catherine to allow you a chance with Miss Bennet. Although I must warn you William, I do believe you are setting yourself up for failure. I doubt even the great Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley can overcome her objections and make her Mrs. Darcy."

With those final words, Fitzwilliam turned and left leaving Darcy feeling utterly alone. "I sincerely hope you are wrong, Richard," Darcy spoke quietly to himself. "Although, if anything is to be gained by looking at the past, I fear you will have won this debate nonetheless I doubt you will be able to triumph over me because if I do fail, both Miss Elizabeth and I will be dead."

.

.

.

Darcy anxiously awaited the arrival of the party from Hunsford after dinner. The brief exchange of greetings they shared after church services that morning was not long enough to ease the longing he felt for Miss Elizabeth's company. While he had been granted only a measly curtsey in reply to his greeting, his cousin had been blessed with her conversation. This had put him in such a foul mood that he knew could only be appeased by speaking with her once more.

When the Collins' and their guests were shown into the drawing room, Lady Catherine extended a short civil greeting before returning her attention back towards Darcy not allowing him the opportunity to greet the party. Frustrated, he listened to Lady Catherine waiting for a chance to escape her conversation while he watched the new arrivals.

Mr. and Mrs. Collins sat down close to Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson and began a conversation while Fitzwilliam gratefully placed himself next to Miss Elizabeth with Miss Lucas sitting close on her other side. He continued to listen to Lady Catherine with one ear, while the other sought out the conversation between his cousin and Miss Elizabeth from across the room.

While he had always been envious of his cousin's easy manners among others, never had Darcy felt such jealousy as he did now. He listened as the two conversed about the many beauties to be found in both Hertfordshire and Kent, of the benefits of travel compared to remaining at home, and of their enjoyment of certain books and music. Although he knew he should not ignore his aunt as he hoped to lessen her anger with him, he could not help but let his eyes wander to where his heart yearned to be. Eventually his inattention and the liveliness of the conversation between the two drew Lady Catherine's curiosity.

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is," she demanded quite loudly ending all other conversations in the room.

"We are speaking of music, madam," Fitzwilliam replied with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"

Slightly amused at how boastful his aunt was of her imagined accomplishments, Darcy, with a few comments of agreement from Fitzwilliam, was happy to bestow affectionate praise upon his own sister's proficiency.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her, and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practice a great deal," Lady Catherine said.

"I assure you, madam, that she does not need such advice," Darcy replied barely concealing a snort of amusement at how little Lady Catherine truly knew her niece. "She practices very constantly."

"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice," she said puffing her chest up as though the action would increase her importance to those in the room. Darcy merely rolled his eyes at this action but stopped in horror as Lady Catherine continued. "I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano-forte in Mrs. Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."

Ashamed at his aunt's ill breeding in making such a comment to a young gentlewoman, Darcy glanced at her in regret. He watched as her face registered shock upon seeing his shame for her sake then turned to concealed disappointment at Fitzwilliam's amusement. Relief flooded his thoughts. Although it was obvious that Miss Elizabeth currently preferred his cousins company over his own, she was not blind to Fitzwilliam's indifference to the feelings of others not well known to him. Darcy wondered at how he could not see that while Miss Elizabeth often found enjoyments in the follies of others it was usually a defense mechanism to avoid feeling slighted.

Feeling uncomfortable with the growing silence and seeing Miss Elizabeth's growing embarrassment, Darcy decided to relieve them both by engaging his aunt once more in conversation. Although he still desired to exchange places with his cousin, he knew that to keep Lady Catherine's attention away from his beloved would be a more welcome respite to her.

As the evening continued on, Darcy was beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to obtain a few moments in Miss Elizabeth's company. Eventually coffee was served and Fitzwilliam took the opportunity to remind Miss Elizabeth of her promise to play. She immediately sat down to the instrument while Fitzwilliam drew a chair close to her.

For a short while, Lady Catherine listened to the performance, then halfway through the first song began to converse once more with Darcy. He, however, had had his fill of conversation and wished to enjoy the opportunity of seeing Miss Elizabeth play. Without a word, he stood up leaving Lady Catherine to the mercy of Mr. Collins and walked towards the piano-forte.

As he approached the instrument, he saw Miss Elizabeth glance up at him in surprise. With a slight smile, he deliberately placed himself where he could have a full view of her fair countenance as she performed. Somewhat confused by his actions and his smile, she took advantage of the first convenient pause in the music and with a small smile of her own addressed him.

"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

Darcy allowed his smile to grow upon hearing her words. He knew full well how stubborn she could be when challenged, and always enjoyed seeing the result of said stubbornness. "I shall not say that you are mistaken" he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Darcy watched mesmerized as Miss Elizabeth laughed heartily at his words, grateful that she saw the challenge for what he intended. Here, he thought, was his opportunity to begin the improvement of her opinion of him since his farewell and apology in Hertfordshire had apparently not been substantial enough. He was surprised, though, to discover her addressing her reply towards his cousin instead of himself.

"Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy," she said finally turning back towards him, "it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire - and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too - for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear."

Delighted that she had accepted his challenge, Darcy's smile continued to grow as he said, "I am not afraid of you."

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

"You shall hear then - but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball - and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you - but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

"I had not at that time the honor of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party," he replied hiding the reminder of the disappointment he originally felt at believing he had not found Iliana among those gathered.

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball-room," she replied glancing at him curiously as though sensing his hidden disappointment. With a slight shake of her head, she turned once more to his cousin with a smile. "Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."

"Perhaps," Darcy said unwilling to let his chance at conversation with her pass by, "I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" Miss Elizabeth said still addressing Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I can answer your question without applying to him," said Fitzwilliam with far too much jollity for Darcy's liking. "It is because he will not give himself the trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," admitted Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do," she replied with an eyebrow raised in either amusement or confusion he could not tell. "They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed It to be my own fault - because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution."

Darcy smiled, and said, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much betters. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think anything wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."

Darcy watched as what little amusement on her face turned to full confusion. Before she had a chance to reply, however, they were interrupted by Lady Catherine who insisted on knowing what they were talking of. While Miss Elizabeth immediately began to play again, Darcy and Fitzwilliam both glanced towards their aunt as she stood to approach the trio.

After listening for a few minutes, Lady Catherine said to Darcy, "Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Fighting the urge to contradict his aunt's appraisal of Miss Elizabeth's performance, Darcy watched as she glanced up from the music to assess his own reaction. Realizing that here he had a chance to share a small portion of his feelings with her, he smiled before surreptitiously rolling his eyes and giving a tiny shake of his head. Amused, he watched as she stumbled over a chord due to her surprise at his reaction.

Having been satisfied that her words had been noted, Lady Catherine removed herself from the trio and walked back towards her carved chair. The moment she sat down, Darcy noticed Miss Elizabeth shudder as though repulsed. Confused, he watched her even more carefully for the remainder of the visit.

Between the two men's requests and encouragements, Miss Elizabeth remained at the piano-forte for the remainder of the visit. Although Lady Catherine continued her remarks on the performance, Darcy noted that not once did Miss Elizabeth glance her way. When her ladyship's carriage was announced ready for the guests, Fitzwilliam grandly offered his arm to Miss Elizabeth and escorted her to the center of the room so that she could extend her farewell to Lady Catherine. Darcy's frustration with his cousin was immediately replaced by concern when he noticed Miss Elizabeth refused to look directly at her ladyship and instead glared at the chair upon which she sat. But it was the terrified glint of gold in her eye that truly worried him; a look he had only seen once and bestowed upon him in a moment of great anger and betrayal. Feeling a sudden surge of magic in the room emanating from her, Darcy reacted quickly before allowing himself time to think.

Cautiously he glanced towards Miss Elizabeth trying to gauge her reaction. All was as he expected. There she stood, unable to move any part of her body besides her head, staring at him with a mixture of anger and horror while the others were frozen in time.

"What have you done?" She asked sharply.

"I have merely acted in a manner that would prevent you from doing something rash that you might later regret," Darcy stated as calmly as he could despite the panic still resting in his chest. "You know not, Miss Bennet, the incredible power you wield and were about to unleash on those in this room."

"Are you accusing me of witchcraft sir?" Her eyes wide in dismay.

"Far from it for your power is pure and much stronger," he replied watching the fear course into her eyes. "Now, I need you to calm down Miss Bennet so that we can discuss this rationally without causing harm to the others, but we must do so quickly for we will not be allowed much time."

"I do not understand, Mr. Darcy. Of what exactly are you talking of and why are all the others thus frozen?"

Running a hand through his hair, Darcy exhaled a frustrated breath glancing towards the nearest window. "We do not have the time to discuss this right now Miss Bennet, but trust me when I say that all is well. I believe you once claimed an experience such as this to be a dream."

"I did indeed, although I fail to understand why such dreams only occur when you are near for they cannot be true. I refuse to believe that you have the ability to stop time or could truly care for...well, it does not matter for this cannot be real."

Forcing down feelings of disappointment, Darcy took a cautious step closer. "You must be right, Miss Bennet, although I cannot fathom why you would dream of me thus." Pleased he saw a slight blush spread across her face. Shaking his head slightly to regain focus he drew even closer. "Now, as I said, I believe we have little time before _he_ will arrive and interfere again. Will you not tell me what has angered you so to cause you to become so frightened?"

"He?" She asked perplexed ignoring his own query.

"Yes _he_. I know not who he is but I do know him to have spoken to you when I am around. He does not wish for us to become closer, so he has kept you from your true self by telling you lies about me."

Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth swallowed awkwardly knowing he had hit upon the truth. Had she the ability to move, he was certain she would be shifting from foot to foot as was her normal habit when truly uncomfortable. With compassion in his voice he stepped even closer to her. "While I wish I could more fully explain, we do not have the time and this man is not a concern of mine at this moment. I ask again, what has upset you so?"

Quirking her head to the side, she considered him a moment before answering. "If this is indeed naught but my own dream, then how can you not hear and see that which I can?"

Displeased that he must fib in order to keep her believing that he was not really conversing with her, he forced a light chuckle. "These dreams are your own musings, and if I am correct, you are convinced that I believe myself to be perfection. Therefore, would it not make sense that in your imaginings I am far less so than yourself? You believe me to be a most disagreeable man. Why should I not in your own thoughts be imagined as admitting to my flaws?"

Darcy watched as her eyes widened in shock. Although he wished he could simply draw Iliana out, he knew that he must play to Miss Elizabeth's desires of believing these interactions as false for the time being. As such, he knew that by using the same term she used to describe him while sharing Wickham's tale to her sister in the garden at Longbourn during the private conversation he overheard as Cyrus would help convince her of her own desires.

"Very well," she reluctantly admitted, "I can see that you are right. But still, can you not hear it?"

"And what should I be hearing Miss Bennet?"

"The pain and disgust."

"I am well aware of the pain in my aunt's history that has thus led her to being disgusted and displeased with all around her. What I fail to see, however, is why you do not laugh it off as I have seen you do countless times before. This resolve of yours to refuse to let others know the pain they cause you is one of the many traits about you that I admire most."

"I...I thank you, sir," Miss Elizabeth replied hesitantly, "but it is not your aunt of whom I am referring. It is the chair upon which her ladyship sits that cries out."

A dark look immediately overcame Darcy's face as he glanced towards the insulting chair covered in despicable carvings of their races. Realization dawned upon him as a wave of compassion for Iliana's sensibilities towards the wood surfaced. "The wood, it speaks to you, ashamed of the purpose it has given its life for. Am I correct?"

"Yes," she said with a tone of fear. "Mr. Darcy, since you seem to have so many answers, can you tell me why it is that I can hear the wood cry out to me in pain and suffering?"

"I can Miss Bennet," he said with a loving smile upon his face causing her to blush anew. "As I said before, you have great power within you, a gift from your past that allows you to feel the life in the wood all around you."

"My past?"

"Yes, one that we shared, Ellette," he replied unable to stop himself from reaching out to brush the back of his fingers lightly down her cheek. The moment he touched her, however, he felt the watcher's magic fill the room and knew his time was up. "I must go now, Miss Bennet," he quickly said, "but I will share this with you. You are descended from a great race which is depicted on that chair. However, the carvings you see are far from accurate and in actuality are quite offensive. Fairies are not all scantily clad buxom women, while elves are not all short grumpy men. The most beautiful woman to have ever lived is an elf while the greatest man I know and look up to is a fairy." Seeing her disbelief and feeling the watcher's magic increasing he took a quick step back. "I know you do not believe me at this time, Miss Bennet, but I assure you it is true. You have the ability to sense the life of the wood, and what you hear from that chair is nothing but pain and sorrow at being disused so. But I beg of you, while I do not care for the chair any more than you do, to wish to destroy it will bring you nothing but trouble."

As he began to turn from her, he was surprised to hear her call out to him to wait. Knowing that he should not keep time frozen any longer, he was helpless to deny her request. Looking back towards her, he saw confusion cross her features. "I have visited this room several times before, Mr. Darcy," she began, "so why is it I can suddenly hear something that I could not hear before? I will not deny that I have never cared for her ladyship's chair, but until today, I have heard nothing from it."

"You will find, Miss Bennet, that whenever I am near, your powers are closer to the surface due to our shared past which I hope you will one day soon remember."

He watched as she considered him for a second before doubt and anger crossed her face. "I can more readily believe, sir, that you have instead placed a spell upon me in the hopes of further degrading myself before you and your relatives."

Unable to reply knowing that the watcher had once again spoken a lie to her, he merely bowed before restoring time to its normal flow. Refusing to glance directly at her, Darcy turned to his cousin Anne while watching Miss Elizabeth finish giving her farewells from the corner of his eye. Although he strove to show no indication that anything out of the ordinary had happened, he noticed she was glancing at him with a mixture of curiosity and anger. However, his heart began to pound furiously as he saw her touch her cheek where he had caressed her and a tear fall from the corner of her eye as she followed the Collins' from the room.

* * *

 **AN:** Hi Everyone! Long time, I know, but I won't bother you with my crazy life story. Needless to say, stuff has happened - some serious, some not so much - and I haven't had the time - or the ability when I did have time (being sick sucks) - to write as often as I want. But, all is well now, or as well as it can be with the holidays upon us. But let me reassure you all once more. No matter what is going on in my life, this story is never far from my heart or mind and I will finish it no matter how long it takes me to do so. And once I do, I have another one I would love to get started. So there is my motivation to make more time for writing. For as soon as I finish Curse I can start on a new one! Yay!

Also, a huge thanks to the continued support you all have given me. Despite the fact that I haven't posted in forever, I am constantly receiving emails about PM's, new followers or favorites and even a few reviews. I am astounded! So thank you everyone!

Until next time, Happy Reading!  
Love, Allahteeah


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 _Eavan could not help but watch her as she circled the other dancers with her partner, a young centaur eager to impress a few fillies nearby._ As she drew near to him and his current partner, a shy young gnome, he caught her eye and saw such merriment and energy there. Little did he know that the true reason for her merriment was not in the exercise of the dance, but in seeing him catering to the young gnome by reducing his substantial height to better accommodate his partner.

When the dance finally ended, he gratefully escorted his partner back to her family before heading towards his own father's side. As he went, he resumed his full height in much the same manner as one would stretch to relieve themselves of a stiff neck and back. Having once again obtained his full stature, he quickly shook off the tension in his body before arriving to stand dutifully at his father's side.

After acknowledging his father with a slight bow, he glanced up, an unspoken question in his eyes. Seeing his father's slight nod of approval, he turned his attention towards the king's companions.

Earlier in the day, the fairy king had sent his man Damen to request his son's immediate attendance in his private quarters, of which meeting none was to know about. Torn between worry that something of an ill nature had occurred and hope that knowledge of the druid supporters had been discovered, Eavan was quite surprised to arrive seeing his father calmly sitting on the window seat, an ankle across his knee, reading what appeared to be an amusing letter. Hesitating slightly, he approached his father while clearing his throat to announce his presence.

"Ah, Eavan, there you are, Son," Adair had stated enthusiastically setting aside the papers in his hand.

"You wished to see me about a matter of great importance, Father?"

"Of course, of course. I simply wish to know if you are enjoying the solstice celebrations this year."

Eyeing his father curiously, Eavan was unable to determine the reasoning behind the question. "You are already aware that I am indeed, Father. I thought we had already discussed this subject."

"But that is just the thing," Adair replied. " _I_ am well aware of your enjoyment, however, others are not."

With an eyebrow raised, Eavan considered his father's words before replying haughtily. "I do not see why it should be of concern to anyone else. You and Mother are well aware of how I feel, as is Lady Iliana. There is no one else here that I should care to please."

Sighing, Adair stood and walked towards his desk, hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Have you not wondered why I have struggled to get these last few treaties signed?" he asked, gesturing towards a small pile upon the desk. Seeing his son shrug his shoulders nonchalantly, his own drooped in disappointment. "We fairies have always been closest to the elves. Not only are our physiques most similar, but our powers have always been the most complementary and the most powerful. While over the years there have been many wars between the different races, only once have we fought against the elves. We cannot say the same for the others."

"So we get along better with the elves than any of the others. I do not see any harm in that. I know Queen Lareina has already signed her peace treaty, therefore, if none of the others sign theirs, then we have nothing to fear."

"That is where you are wrong, Eavan. Though the others remain unaware of who I am, it is my sole duty to ensure peace among all the realms. I cannot do so if I show favoritism. I am aware of a few who are sympathetic to the druids' cause, and some of them are among those whose treaties remain unsigned. Although none of them, thankfully, are in a high position, they can easily stir up trouble among their people to the point where their rulers will begin to believe their lies."

Surprised at his father's reveal, Eavan began to become excited. "If you know who these people are, then why not expose them now."

"And begin the war that I am trying to avoid? I think not my son," Adair replied shaking his head in frustration. "Can you not see the problems that would arise if I am the one to expose them? Despite our many efforts these three weeks, there are still many who do not trust us. If we were to begin accusing their people of helping the enemy, then there would be no hope for peace between us."

Nodding his head slowly, Eavan looked down towards his feet. "I understand, Father, and I am sorry for not thinking as clearly. However, I fail to see what this has to do with their opinion of me."

"You are my son and only heir," Adair replied impatiently. "While I have been fortunate to live as long as I have, even I am not immune to death. If that awful day were to come, then you would ascend to my throne and receive all that I have been gifted with. Yet, unlike myself, you have not made any effort to let others know you. You do not dance with their young ladies, you do not converse with the elders, and you have not bothered to know any of the young men and women who will one day become leaders." Holding up a hand to stop Eavan's protests, he quickly continued. "I know you dance and talk, but not of your own volition. You must set aside your shyness, Son. You must let your guard down. I know you have had your trust betrayed before, but you must not judge everyone by those impossibly high standards of yours. Unfortunately, there will always be those who will want to use you for their own gain; I have been dealing with them continuously since they arrived. Yet, as king, it is my duty to ensure that everyone gets what they desire without me sacrificing anything important. That is politics my son, and something you need to learn now not later."

"Father, how can you ask that of me? I will not allow myself to fall victim to that heartache again."

"I am not asking you to trust, or open your heart to anyone you do not wish to. However, you must appear as trusting and approachable. You must learn how to delegate in a way that all parties are satisfied and you must learn to let others like you."

Dejected, Eavan collapsed onto the window seat his father had previously abandoned. Wondering how he could do something so against his nature, he looked up to see his father looking at him with sympathy and love. "Very well, Father. What would you have me do?"

With a small smile of approval, Adair replied, "dance." Seeing the shock and horror on his sons face, he let out a small chuckle. "Tonight, I wish for you to dance. Do not wait for the young ladies to drag you to the floor, nor for their parents to force them upon you. I want you to approach those who look longingly at the others dancing and ask them to stand up with you. While dancing, keep your attention on your partner, talk with her, and most importantly smile and make her smile. When not dancing, you must willingly converse with anyone who approaches you. Be polite and considerate, and do not scowl or show any impatience. If you become overwhelmed, then join either your mother or myself."

Sucking in his breath, Eavan considered all that his father said. "Do you believe this will honestly help?"

"I do," Adair said confidently. "Not only will this help our own cause, but it is a wonderful way to train you for the possibility of one day being king."

"I would rather not think of that, Father."

"Nor would I, Son, but we must always be prepared for the unexpected."

Nodding thoughtfully, Eavan began to sense that his father was hiding something else from him, and worried that it was to do with Iliana. "Earlier you mentioned our relationship with the elves and how it could possibly be causing our problems with the others through favoritism. With that in mind, is there anything else that I must do?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Adair replied hesitantly. "Despite all your efforts, your attentions towards the Lady Iliana have not gone unnoticed. You have watched and spent all your time with her to the exclusion of everybody else. If there was an understanding between you two, then the others would be more accepting and comfortable with your attentions. As there is nothing, however, they see it as an insult that she is the only one to have garnered your interest. To them, it is further proof that we would side with the elves going against all others in the event war broke out."

"You are asking me to avoid her?" Eavan cried clenching his fists and jaw in anger.

"I am not. If she were to approach you, then if would be very rude indeed for you to not acknowledge her, nor would I have you do anything of the kind. I simply would prefer if you did not spend all your spare time with her. I would also ask you not to follow her every move with your eyes. You must give your full attention to whomever you are presently keeping company with."

"I am not sure I can do that, Father."

"You must try. As I said before, since there is no understanding between the two of you, your attentions towards her can be seen as a threat to our peace as well as put her in possible danger."

"She...she is in danger because of me?" Eavan asked, his heart thumping wildly with the implication.

"Not as of yet. However, I do fear that if war were to break out, with nothing binding the two of you, our enemies would not hesitate to use her against you. More than anything, I cannot lose you, Son." Running a hand through his hair, Adair bowed his head and in a low voice continued. "Despite all my magic and all of our efforts, your mother cannot conceive again. None of my four brothers and sisters were able to conceive more than one child, and neither can I. If you were to die before me and without an heir, then when I passed from this world, there would be no one to pass my magic to and it would be released into the world. Everything would fall into complete chaos and the world as we know it would end."

"Why have you not told me before?" Eavan asked thinking of the last time those words had been spoken between them.

"And push you into doing something you were not ready for? No, Eavan, I could never do that to you. I waited several centuries before I finally found love, why would I not give you the same opportunity? Besides, there has never been any reason for you to know before now. But, we are now on the brink of a possible war, and, at last, you have found the one thing I always wanted for you; love. You must do what you can to protect both her and yourself. I do not think you would be able to survive if anything happened to her."

Nodding solemnly, Eavan considered his father's words. "Very well. I will do my best this evening. I want you to know that I am doing it only for her though."

"Thank you, Son."

Adair's deep chuckle next to him quickly put an end to Eavan's reminiscing of the afternoon meeting. Seeing his father in such a light mood brought a smile to his face. Although he had tried to follow his father's advice, he was finding it difficult to not seek Iliana out. However, he had to admit to himself that those he danced and conversed with were friendlier than he had anticipated and were eager for his kind attentions. No one had yet to ply him with requests for things for themselves, they simply wanted to be acknowledged. Pleased with this realization, Eavan relaxed and began to pay more attention to those around him, even going so far as to contribute to the conversation much to the king's surprise and pleasure.

As the evening wore on, Eavan continued to dance and converse with many others. Although he would have preferred the sole company of Iliana, he did find enjoyment with those he met. When possible without causing offense, he would seek Iliana out of the crowd and bestow a smile upon her which she was always happy to return.

Close to midnight, Eavan had joined his parents as they conversed with a giant, sprite and dwarf. The merriment among the group was so great that they hardly noticed the harried approach of the elf queen.

"Pardon me for the interruption, Adair, but I have come to inform you that I must depart with my people at dawn," Lareina said after a small curtsey.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, as well as the concern on the faces of the fairy king and queen, the three others quickly excused themselves so as not to interfere. Eavan, on the other hand, drew closer to his parents, his own fear at Iliana's imminent departure causing his heart to race. He was also beginning to feel despair at the thought of not having time to spend watching the sunrise together as had become their norm. So deep within his thoughts, he almost missed his mother's query.

"We will feel the loss of your company these last couple days, but of course you should leave if you must," Anthea stated placing a hand on her friend's arm. "However, before you go, will you not share your troubles with us?"

Looking hesitantly between the three concerned faces watching her intently, Lareina leaned in closer and in a quiet voice began to speak. "I received word a short time ago that a band of druids have crossed our borders. Although they have not approached our city, they claim that they are an emissary group who have come to make peace between our peoples."

Adair sucked in a harsh breath as he heard what the queen had to say. "Lareina, you cannot trust them."

"That is precisely why I must take my people home," she replied. "Not only should I be there to make sure that we are not being deceived, but I am concerned about my son. Although I know he is being well taken care of in my absence, I cannot help but fear for his safety, especially after losing his father shortly after his birth."

"Let me send someone with you," Adair pleaded. "I fear these druids may have been invited by one of your own."

Ignoring Eavan's exclamation of shock, the elf queen nodded her head in agreement. "I feel you are right Adair, but I must decline your offer. We cannot give concern to any others. I have already made my excuses to those who need to hear them by claiming that there was a fire nearby damaging part of our forest. While the fire did indeed happen, it has been recovering for several seasons now; a fact no one needs know."

"Very well if you are sure," Adair replied hesitantly.

"Must...must you all go?" Eavan asked surprising all three of his companions. "Would it not be possible to leave a small party here for the rest of the festival?"

With a look of great compassion, Lareina bestowed a sad smile upon him. "I am afraid not. It would look odd to leave anyone behind in the wake of such an emergency. Besides, I cannot guarantee anyone's protection if they were to remain behind and travel later. I will not risk the safety of my people."

Hardly able to breathe at this point, Eavan quickly bowed to the queen, wished her safe travels, and then hastily excused himself. Barely keeping his panic in check, he immediately sought out Iliana. He had done well in regards to following his father's suggestions from the afternoon, but surely the king could not fault him for seeking her out for a private farewell.

At last he saw her and caught her eye as she turned in the current dance. Seeing his somber expression, she assumed that he must have just heard the news of the elves' early departure. Having hoped to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, she nodded then glanced in the direction of the spring. She knew he understood when he immediately turned and began walking away into the dark forest. With a heavy heart, she forced a smile upon her face and turned her attention back to her partner who thankfully had not noticed her slight distraction. As soon as the dance finished, she claimed fatigue, gave her farewells to those she had befriended over the weeks, and began to make her own way to the spring.

Unbeknownst to the two, they were once again being carefully watched by three pairs of eyes. "Do you believe your plan will work, my dear?" Queen Anthea asked her solemn husband.

"I truly am not sure my dear," he replied with a heavy sigh. "I can only hope that our conversation this afternoon gave him enough motivation to do it. Although I do not have much faith. Even with Lareina waiting so long to approach with her news, I had hoped he would have sought her out much sooner than this after my telling him of the danger she is in."

"And if it does not happen?"

"Then I fear for her," Lareina said. "She will not be able to protect herself if he fails right now, and I will be just as helpless."

"But you are the queen!" Anthea exclaimed barely managing to keep her voice down to avoid being overheard.

"That I am. However, I am not her mother."

"Surely there is something that you can do."

"No there is not."

"Anthea darling, it is out of our hands now," Adair softly reproached. "All we can do is wait and hope that he will do what is needed of him in order to protect us all."

.

.

.

"Eavan?" Iliana called out as she reached the spring. Although the moon was shining brightly in the sky, the spring was full of dark shadows. Squinting her eyes, she looked all around hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Unable to see anything, she closed her eyes hoping to feel his presence. However, the magic flowing from the flowers clustered on the ground was so strong that she was unable to detect the presence of any other magical beings nearby.

Calling out for him again, she walked towards the water's edge where the flowers gave way to a soft patch of lush, green grass. Once there, she looked around the spring again, hoping that he might have appeared. Wondering what could have possible detained him to allow her to arrive first, she closed her eyes allowing the music of their flowers to flow around her.

When Eavan finally arrived, it was to the sight of his beloved swaying in time to the music. Wanting to join her in her dance, he hesitated and allowed himself a moment to admire her in the moonlight. She was wearing a cream dress that contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin. The red of her underskirt matched the roses embroidered around her neckline, waist and hem. It was the first time he had seen her in such a color and he thought it suited her very well indeed.

So lost was he in admiring the way her dress flowed with the movement of her hips that he almost missed her small chuckle. "Would you care to join me milord, or shall you stand there in silence all night?"

Smiling, he immediately rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her in close. Nestling his head among her soft curls, he breathed in deeply of her scent, trying to keep his panic from surfacing. Tonight would be their last moments together until fall arrived; he knew not how he was supposed to let her go. Pulling her even closer, he let his hands caress her curves, hoping to memorize the feel of her in his arms.

"Mmm...Eavan?"

"Yes my love?"

"Can you forgive me?"

Suddenly alarmed, Eavan pulled away and turned her in his arms so that he could see her face. When she refused to look at him, he gently cupped her chin and lifted her face until her eyes finally met his. The sadness and regret he saw there was his own undoing, and the panic he was fighting to control washed over him like a giant wave. Was there more going on than just the elves leaving? Was she somehow involved with the druids?

"What...what is it that you seek forgiveness for?" He asked, his voice quavering with fear.

"I should have been the one to tell you," she blurted out through sudden tears. "I should not have tried to hide our departure from you. I should have told you as soon as I had heard the news. But I was so afraid. I do not want to have to say goodbye, and in my selfishness, I cost us valuable time together."

Relief flooded through him, and he pulled her head onto his shoulder. While one hand held her head in place, the other rubbed small circles on her back as he whispered endearments in her ear, encouraging her to let out all her tears. When her sobs finally quieted, he stepped away to sit on the ground. With a gentle tug on her hand, he pulled her down onto his lap where he once again gathered her tightly in his arms and relished in the feel of her body enfolded within his own. After sitting thus for several minutes, she pulled away slightly so that she could see into his dark blue eyes.

"Can you forgive me, Eavan?"

"There is nothing to forgive, Ellette," he replied with a sad smile. "Had I been in your position, knowing how much you have enjoyed the dancing, I would have been hard pressed to end your evening of enjoyment. In the end it matters not; you were to leave eventually, why should it signify when? The pain would have been the same two days from now."

"But there need not be any pain," she cried hopefully. "Perhaps you might find a way to convince my aunt to let me stay. The druids could have no interest in my presence."

Shaking his head regretfully, he looked away from her pleading eyes. "I have already petitioned for a small contingent to remain. Your aunt was quite insistent that all should depart together. I fear there will be no convincing her otherwise."

"Oh," was her dejected reply as she looked down at their entwined hands. "What if," she began again hesitantly, "what if we were to announce our relationship? Perhaps she would let me stay then."

"No!" He replied harsher than intended causing her to pull away from him. "No," he repeated softer looking away from her.

"And why not, milord? Are you so ashamed of me that you would rather see me leave than admit to the world that you are in love?"

"Yes," he whispered not realizing the first part of what she had said.

"Very well then, milord. I beg you would excuse me as I must finish preparing for my departure." Not bothering to wipe the tears suddenly streaming down her face, she yanked herself out of his embrace and began to storm away.

Confused as to why he suddenly found his arms bereft of her presence, Eavan looked up to discover her fleeing his presence. Tripping over himself in his haste, he began to follow her, calling her name, only to discover his progress being slowed by tree branches and roots suddenly thrusting themselves in his way. Cursing quietly to himself, he shrunk to the size of a butterfly and quickly flew between the protruding pieces of wood. When he finally reached her, he pleaded with her to stop only to have her try to swat him away. Frustrated that she refused to listen he quickly inhaled causing time, and her, to freeze.

Without hesitation, he quickly grew to full size, scooped her up into his arms, and flew back towards the spring. Once he was directly over the water, high above the reach of any nearby trees, he let the flow of time return to normal unprepared for the panic she would experience upon suddenly discovering herself high above the ground.

Letting out an ear piercing shriek, Iliana began to flail about as she tried to find a way to escape. In her efforts, she managed to elbow Eavan in the stomach and he unconsciously doubled over releasing her from his hold. Plummeting towards the water, she continued to screech in fear. Reaching out with her magic, she hoped she could save herself by causing a tree limb to extend far enough to secure her. Unfortunately, the limb reached her a split second after Eavan did causing him to yell in pain as they both hit the water.

Struggling against the weight of her sodden dress, Iliana broke the surface of the spring and began to make her way towards shore. After once again gaining solid ground, she looked around anxious for a sign of Eavan. Not seeing him anywhere, she began to panic. Debating whether or not diving back in would be of any help to him with her heavy clothes, she failed to notice a fresh patch of lily pads floating to the surface. The sudden sound of gasping caused her to jump in surprise until she saw the precious cargo being carried her way by the aquatic plants.

Rushing towards him, she quickly grabbed his arms to drag onto dry land. Finding him unconscious, she turned him onto his side and quickly began to check to make sure he was at least breathing. Seeing he did not struggle for breath, her anger towards him began to grow again; however, it immediately evaporated when she saw the jagged tear in one of his wings.

Checking again to see if he was awake, she hesitantly reached out to touch the torn forewing. Having always been too shy to touch them before, she was shocked to discover that his wings were softer than the silk of her dress and warm to the touch. With a rueful sigh, she admitted to herself that it would be quite uncomfortable for the fairies to have wings as solid as diamonds as she had previously thought. After all, had she not seen Eavan many times fold them against his back to hang like a short, iridescent blue cape?

With a little less hesitancy, and a great deal more guilt, she continued to gently stroke the damaged wing as fresh tears rolled down her face. Although upon their first meeting she had called his wings thin and flimsy, she had always admired their beauty and strength. To her they seemed as indestructible as he strove to appear as to others. To see them thus damaged reminded her of the broken heart of the man they belonged to.

"There is no need for your tears, Ellette. It shall heal in time and be as it once was."

Shocked at being suddenly addressed, she pulled her hand away as if burned and looked down to see blue eyes full of love and sorrow gazing intently at her. Reaching up to brush the tears from her face, she found her hand being pulled away by his gentle grasp. After releasing her hand, Eavan struggled to sit up before reaching with his own hand to wipe her tears away.

"These were caused by me, thus the remedy should be mine." Ignoring the shaking of her head, he continued to caress her face. "No, my love, let me for once accept the blame that is mine. In my despair, I did not pay proper attention to you thus causing a misunderstanding. In trying to force you to listen to my pleas, I took advantage of powers available to me and caused you a great deal of fear. The damage I received is the result of my selfishness. I am sorry."

Unable to stop the tears streaming down her face, she lunged forward and buried herself in his arms. Unbalanced by her sudden movement, Eavan instinctively reached behind him with his hands while spreading his wings causing a fresh wave of pain to course through him. Hearing his yelp of pain, she pulled away and gently began to reach once more towards the torn wing, but paused uncertain as she turned to look at him. Meeting his eyes, she saw apprehensive approval and gently caressed the wing. At hearing his sharp intake of breath, she quickly pulled her hand away again.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to cause you pain, milord."

With a dark chuckle, he waved his hand in dismissal. "Still 'milord' is it. Very well, I suppose I have much to atone for this night. But you need not fear, Ellette; it is not your touch that causes me pain, for that can bring me nothing but pleasure."

With a slight nod of her head, she reached instead for his other forewing, pleased to hear a different sort of sharp breath, one that sounded as though from unexpected pleasure. "I had not realized they were so soft, nor that they were so sensitive," she quietly said as she continued to explore his wings.

"Both a blessing and a curse," he replied, grimacing as he attempted to shift his body without causing further pain. "If they were not so soft, then we fairies would never find comfort, especially those, like me, who prefer to sleep on their backs. Alas, that is where the sensitive part becomes a curse."

"Have you damaged them before?"

"Once, yes" he laughed. "I was a youngling of a mere six winters. Tavi and I were just like other younglings; adventuress, brave, and reckless. In trying to impress some older females, we decided to try showing off some newly learned defensive skills. We each gathered a handful of pebbles, and using magic to send them flying towards one another, used these new skills to dodge the speeding pebbles. Unfortunately, Tavi was never one to fight fairly, and in trying to evade one sent directly towards the space between my eyes, I did a spin jump in the air where it instead punched a hole straight through my left hindwing." As he spoke, he pointed to the said wing, diagonal from the current injured wing, where she saw a small spot that was more silver than it was blue. "Although my father sped up the healing process, it felt as though the pain lasted forever. At least that is how long a week felt like to a youngling such as myself. Thankfully they can only be damaged by magical means, else I doubt I would have ever learned to fly in my youth."

Seeing a haunted look in his eyes, she felt a wave of tender compassion flow over her. "You miss him, do you not?" She asked as she grasped his hand in hers.

Looking down at their entwined hands, he began to rub his thumb across her knuckles. "I miss the innocence and ignorance of youth, yes, but I do not, cannot miss him. For years I had blinded myself to his true feelings towards me. I had not failed to realize that he was taking advantage of my friendship, but I had thought that is what friendship was all about. It was not until Keelia entered our lives that I truly realized he was no friend, nor had he ever been. I lost all trust in others that day." Sighing, he looked out across the spring towards where they had fallen. "It took you putting me in my place to realize how miserable a life I had been leading since then. You were the one who taught me how to trust again, how to be a friend again, and most importantly, how to love again. But tonight I ruined it all."

Hearing the pure despair in his voice, she felt her breath hitch, as she tried to formulate a reply. "I...I cannot deny the pain I felt upon hearing you claim you were ashamed of me, however..."

"What?!" He interrupted, flipping his head around in shock to look at her. "Is that...did you truly say that?" Seeing her nod her head, he drew his hand from hers and began raking it through his blonde hair. Muttering several curses under his breath, he fought to regulate his panicked breathing. "Oh, how you must hate me. It is no wonder you stormed away from me in anger. I am such a fool to believe I could ever be worthy of your love."

"Then you are not ashamed of me?" She asked with hope flooding her breast.

"Never, my love," he cried as he pulled her once more into his arms, ignoring the pain from his wing. "I should have given you the attention you deserved. Instead, I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that all I heard was you asking if I would rather you leave than announce to the world that I love you with all my being."

"But why?" Iliana asked, fear and anger once more entering her heart. "If you love me as much as you claim, then why not be willing to announce it? I understand and was in agreement to the conditions you set during the celebration. We needed this time to let our love nurture and grow in private. As much as I love to dance, limiting myself to only one dance a night with you was nothing short of torture. I would have gladly given up all the other dances if it had meant more time with you. Yet now, when it is the only key to preventing our separation, you still refuse to acknowledge me."

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my love, than to keep you forever by my side never to be separated. Yet to do what you ask is impossible at this time. Your safety is paramount to my happiness."

"What do you mean by my safety, Eavan?"

Seeing the steely determination in her eyes, he hesitantly related the entirety of the conversation he had had with his father that afternoon. By the end of his retelling, he was proud to see she still held her head up high despite the flicker of fear in her eyes.

"Eavan," she hesitated, "do you truly believe that these druid supporters would try to use me somehow to harm you?"

Nodding his head, he tightened his hold on her as she rested her head upon his shoulder. "I could not bear to see you harmed because of me."

"Then why not do as your father suggested? He all but said that the way to keep me safe was to form an understanding between us for all to know"

"While it is true that I could possibly keep you here where I could better personally protect you, I fear announcing an understanding between us would only make a larger target out of you. Right now, there is nothing but suspicions regarding our relationship, nothing is determined. Therefore, there can be no proof for anyone to use against us."

"But what if your father is right? What if we have not been careful enough during the celebrations and those who are allied with the druids have discovered us?"

"Then I must do my best to appear unaffected by our separation. I will not give them any more reason to think they could use you to get to me. There will come a day, Iliana, where I will gladly claim you as my own, never to let you again be parted from me. There can never be another whom I will love or will take as my wife, but I will not do so until I can guarantee your complete and total safety. Do not ask me to do it. I cannot lose you."

"Very well, I understand."

"Thank you, my love."

With those words, the two fell into a comfortable silence, content to sit within each other's embrace. After some time had passed, Eavan noticed that she had begun to shiver, her dress still soaked from their fall into the spring. Horrified that he had not thought to do so sooner, he quietly pulled the water from both of their clothes and hair, sending it back towards the spring. Her shivering stopped immediately and she snuggled deeper into his embrace as she whispered her thanks.

"It was the least I could do, Ellette, after all the pain and discomfort I caused you this night." Ignoring her protests, he quickly continued. "Unfortunately, it is rather late and dawn will come sooner than we wish. I should send you on your way."

"No, Eavan, let me stay here in your arms until it is time for us to leave. I do not wish to say goodbye."

Shaking his head he said, "It is an event I also desire to avoid, but we cannot. I must send you towards your tent if we are to keep up the pretense that there is nothing between us. But know that our separation causes me the greatest pain I have ever felt."

With a resigned sigh, she lifted herself up from his lap, and turned away to regain her composure. It was with shock that she heard his grunt of pain and turned to see him struggle to rise having forgotten about his torn wing. When he had finally gained his feet, she was surprised to see him wobble unbalanced. After inquiring if he would be alright, he merely shrugged his shoulders and said the next few weeks would require some balance retraining. Wishing to turn away again to avoid seeing his pain, she found herself instead being pulled once more into his embrace. Breathing deeply of his scent, she fought the tears threatening to overflow from her eyes.

"Iliana, before you go, I have a gift I wish to give you."

Looking up into his blue eyes, she saw tears of his own. "There is no need for gifts, milord, your love is the only gift I desire."

Chuckling, he raised one hand to caress her cheek. "And that is a gift that shall forever be yours. Yet I have another I wish to give." Pulling away slightly, he reached into his tunic and pulled out a tiny glass orb on a fine golden chain. "I purchased this several days ago from the dwarves. They work wonders with all manner of glass and metals. This is the reason I was delayed in arriving at the spring. I would not wish for you to leave without it."

Smiling, she reached out to touch the necklace. Although very plain, the workmanship was impressive enough as to allow her to admire it in its simplicity. "Thank you, I shall treasure it always." As she began to take it from him, however, he merely chuckled and pulled it out of her reach.

"You cannot have it yet, Ellette, for it is not complete. If you look closely, you will see that the orb is hollow, designed to hold any object regardless of its original size. Now, it is your turn to trust me and close your eyes," he said with a mischievous smile.

Shaking her head in amusement, she did as he asked. She felt him step away from her and unsteadily walk a few steps. With a grunt of pain, she heard him kneel on the ground and whisper a few words of containment in the ancient language. With another grunt, she heard him rise and felt his approach as he reached his arms over her head. Suddenly she felt a coolness around her neck and opened her eyes to discover the orb hanging from her neck. Reaching for it, she lifted it up and gasped in surprise. Contained inside the tiny orb was a bouquet of their flowers, perfectly preserved in all their beauty.

Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she looked up to see a loving smile and tears upon his own face. "I could not bear the thought that during our separation I should find comfort among our flowers while you were deprived of the same. While I wish I could send them all home with you, such cannot be the case. However, now you shall have proof of my love with you always. Even though they may be encased in miniature glass, you should still be able to hear their music."

Unsure what to say after receiving such a gift, Iliana did the only thing she could think of. It was several minutes later before he released her from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, both breathing deeply in an attempt to cool their sudden passion.

"Go. If you do not go now I cannot be responsible for my actions," he huffed.

"Quite the inducement to stay, would not you agree?" She giggled.

Chuckling he agreed before placing a chaste kiss upon her lips. "Still, you must leave. Dawn is less than two hours away. They will be looking for you soon."

"Very well. Will you come to see us off?"

"Of course, my love. Now go. I shall see you again come autumn."

With one last kiss, she quickly turned and ran from the spring leaving him behind suddenly feeling more alone than he had ever felt before in his life.

.

.

.

"Lareina, I wish you and your people a safe journey home as well as a pleasant solution to your...er...situation."

"Thank you, Adair," Lareina replied shooting a worried glance towards her morose niece. "I shall try to keep you abreast of any news, and I hope it shall not be long before we are again reunited."

Bowing over her extended hand, the fairy king voiced his agreement before passing her along to his wife who immediately pulled the elf queen into a firm embrace. "Your presence shall be missed these last few days. Promise you will take care and let us know if we can offer any assistance."

"That I shall, Anthea," Lareina replied before pulling out of the embrace. "We cannot thank you enough for your kind hospitality these many weeks. It has been a great pleasure. Now, we should go. I should like to cover as much distance as possible today in order to arrive home tomorrow."

"Then we shall not detain you any longer, my dear," Adair said. Turning towards the queen's brother-in-law he continued, "It has also been a pleasure, My Lord Varen. I am grateful for the insight and suggestions you saw fit to give. I shall be giving them much consideration."

Receiving nothing but a non-committal grunt in reply, Adair turned then towards Iliana. "My Lady, it has been the greatest pleasure getting to know you. I hope you know that you are always welcome to return if ever the opportunity presents itself."

"Thank you, sire. I should be glad of a chance to return." she replied in a voice barely above a whisper, darting her eyes towards Eavan standing behind his father.

Not failing to notice her glance, nor his son's stoic facade, he shoved his own disappointment and worry aside, turning his attentions back towards Lareina and Varen in the hopes that the young couple might have a brief private moment.

Quickly stepping forward, Eavan bowed before taking her hand. "You will keep yourself safe?" He asked in a voice only she could hear. Seeing her nod, he allowed a sorrowful smile to briefly cross his features. "I wish you a safe journey home, My Lady. It has been a pleasure to know you," he said loudly enough for their companions to hear.

"Thank you, Your Highness. The pleasure has been all mine," she replied with no emotion.

With one last long look into her emerald green eyes, Eavan bestowed a light kiss upon her knuckles before quickly releasing her hand. Turning, he bid her companions farewell, then watched with ever growing despair as the company of elves finally began their journey home.

Once the company was out of earshot, Adair wrapped an arm around his son, careful to avoid the injured wing, and clasped him on the shoulder. "Is there any news of import you should wish to impart before it is too late?"

"No, Father," Eavan replied, barely keeping the pain from his voice. "I have done as you asked. She shall be safe. I pray you will excuse me, sir." Not seeing the panic upon his parents faces, he quickly turned and fled back towards the spring. Once there, he collapsed onto the ground against a rock, ignoring the sharp pain from his wing, and let his tears freely fall. _However, not even the music of their flowers could ease the grief he felt._

* * *

 **AN:** Hi everyone. First off, thank you all again for the kind reviews, messages and thoughts sent my way. Unfortunately life these past few months has not been what I would like it to be, and in my depression I have purposefully avoided logging onto fanfiction (I am very ashamed to admit that...not the depression, the avoidance). It was not because I do not care, I just could not find the strength to appear cheerful. Therefore, if I have not replied to any reviews, messages, or postings these past months, please do not take it personally. On a bright note, spring is finally here, my health issues (major cause of the depression) are under control, and this story is once more eating away at my consciousness. I do not share this because I am looking for pity or compassion because I do not want it. Depression and real life happens, and we all deal with it in our own time and way. But I am sharing it in the hopes that it will erase any fears of this story going unfinished, for I will finish it. Honestly, it has taken me these many months to write this one, somewhat unplanned, chapter. Although there is some very important information and plot lines included in this chapter, I was too focused on what was coming up that I forgot that without the information contained in this chapter, the next flashback to Eavan and Iliana's original life would not make any sense, and I will not change where in the story line that flashback happens. Therefore, as much of a struggle as this chapter was to write, it is finally done. With that being said, the next chapter is already underway, you **_will not_** have to wait months to read it, and I hope you enjoy.

Much love to you all, and happy reading!  
Allahteeah


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